


It'll Be Okay

by TheOneAndOnly1993



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Canon Divergence-Post 'The Tower', Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone gets some screentime, Game of Thrones-esque Tropes/Elements, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Nice characters abruptly struck with gritty reality, No graphic violence - entirely character-focused, Plot Twists, Plotting/Scheming, Psychological Drama, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneAndOnly1993/pseuds/TheOneAndOnly1993
Summary: After six months in captivity, Finn is rescued by his friends. But he isn't the Finn they know and love - he's broken, mutilated, abused in more ways than one, and ill-trusting of everyone, terrified of being hurt further. Now, it's up to his loved ones to bring him back into the light.But they must contest with their own darkness, first. And when allies start to vanish and everything looks like it's falling apart, the virtues of these five friends are put to the ultimate test.After all is said and done, no one is sure if it'll be okay.





	1. Naked in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wretch searches for a meal. A Princess becomes a Hero. The end begins.

 

_In the Land of Ooo, where anything goes and adventure is always around the corner, a lone keep in the hills is suddenly assaulted at midnight, and torn apart with the ferocity of an angry god._

_Within its deepest dungeon, a wretch scuttles for a meal amidst the filth of his home._

"Careful now," Funn whispered. "Careful little buddy...I ain't gonna hurt'cha!"

His heart almost leapt from his scarred, malnourished bosom when his hand lashed out. He sometimes imagined it like a python, sneaking through the mossy stone floor and cracking out like a whip at the last second. His fingers wrapped around the furry prize, yellow nails digging into its soft, writhing flesh. Funn almost cried when he caught it; even without a thumb, he still managed to catch a meal. When Funn bit into its vulnerable underbelly, the rat squealed and screamed, pawing frantically at his freshly-blooded cheeks. The meat was so sweet, so juicy. He attacked the red ruin of the rat's belly once more. Its struggle ceased that time, giving Funn a fleeting moment of content. His chewing made gross, sloppy sounds that resonated throughout the moist dungeon.

Then he heard the harmony of harsh voices and the scuffle of footsteps down the hall from where he was being kept.

Funn froze like a deer in the headlights, terrified to even think of chewing the warm mess of flesh and fur in his mouth.  _No,_ he thought,  _no, Glob, no. It can't be Tuesday already. Master was just here last night! Or was that three days ago? A month?_ Down in the dark where it was always dark and rainy, it was hard to tell. Funn looked down at the rat in his hand and stifled a scream. His belly screamed hunger, but his phantom ear cried the loudest and he flung it across the room, praying to whoever was still just in this cruel world that Master didn't look in the corner.  _If he sees me with food I didn't earn, he'll take my other ear! Oh Glob Glob Glob, why? It took me so long to catch that rat..._ Tears salted with dirt ran down his grimy face. Funn chewed with what remained of his teeth and swallowed the rat meat.

If Master was in a good mood today, thought Funn, then he may only be checking up to see if he remembered what he is.  _I'm Funn. I'm nothing but. That is all I am and that is all I'll ever be,_  he recited in his head, as he had a hundred times before. There's nothing more Master can take away from him; he already took a sledgehammer to his teeth, what more is there? Unless he decided to take Funn's tongue as well.  _No no no. Come on, Funn. Master wouldn't do that, silly! He loves to hear me beg!_ And you can't be fun without a tongue. Everybody knows that.

Funn tongued the morsels of stringy flesh that got caught in between his yellowed teeth and holes where others had once been. The whole process was an agony, but Funn was so starved he could not bring himself to stop.

Down the hall behind his own dungeon door, the sound of another crashed open.  _"He's not it here!"_ said a male.

 _"Well check the others!"_ cried the female, opening another herself.  _"He HAS to be down here!"_

 _They're coming to get me._ Funn's scrawny figure shuddered, and he dragged himself across the dungeon floor on limbs thin as twigs, iron chain scraping noisily against the stone from his ankle. The pain was real and raw, as the gash on the back of his ankle screamed and spat fresh red in protest. Funn wedged himself tight into the corner, atop a pile of hay that he made his bed. Funn still recalled his first days here, back when he was known as another boy, a fearless hero long forgotten. He recalled the hay pile smelling musty. But Master made him grateful for all of the little things in life, and soon the hay's must became his own.

Some of Master's jailers had taken to calling Funn "Dung", on account of his smell. It was meant to be a joke, he knew, and laughed with them when it came up. Funn learned to love even the jailers; sometimes they'd hit him when he laughed and other times they wouldn't, so it was like a little game that he found exhilarating.

The footsteps shuffled louder. More joined further down the hall from where they came. It was a march, like a small army made up of six pairs of feet. Funn couldn't even begin to ponder who Master was looking for; as far as he knew, Master kept no other entertainers. There was one, on the first day he arrived here. He screamed all through the night, Funn shuddered to recall, even through the thick stone walls. Then the screaming stopped in the morning, and it was only his ever since.

 _"Princess,"_ one of the new voices said, a male that struck as a little slow,  _"we've rounded up all the bad guys."_

 _"Good, good."_ The female they called "Princess" sounded distant, opening another door and sighing in despair.

 _"No sign of Finn the Human,"_ he continued.  _"We think he may have escaped,"_ said another. _  
_

_"If we don't find him here,"_ said the gruff male from before,  _"then I hope that he did."_

Funn wanted to scream. He knew what Master was doing; he did this before. In the early weeks of Funn's reconditioning, Master staged a farce of a rescue mission to give him false hope. This was back when Funn was still considered a man and known by a different, more beloved name. He got as far as the front gate before an arrow took him in the shoulder, and as punishment Funn was stabbed twice, once with a needle to stop the wound from festering, and again with something, far, far worse. After that, Funn was no more than a sack of bony meat that was fed only twice a week and lived to entertain. But the question remained: why is Master repeating games?

The footsteps shuffled closer to Funn's lair.  _"This is the last set of doors, princess,"_  said the male. He sounded hopeful. " _Let's keep our fingers crossed!"_

 _No!_ Funn scrambled his callused heels against the straw and stone floor as he tried to push himself harder into the cold, damp corner, into the shadows.  _Pass me by pass me by. Please just leave me be and pass me by!_ Overgrown hair fell over his eyes in the struggle, hair that was more like the hay he slept on than anything else.

The footsteps advanced and stopped when it seemed they were at their loudest. The lock tumbled and rumbled. Funn squeaked and he wiped his bloodied hands on the only article of clothing he still had: his blue shorts, now fringed and torn and reeking of mildew and blood and other bodily fluids.  _Go away! Please!_ He made the effort to hide in his straw pile, yet it was only deep enough to conceal the nub of his right arm, its flower long-plucked by the Master himself when he first arrived here.

The sound of the door slamming open was the most terrible sound he had ever heard. When the torchlight streamed in and hit him full in the face, Funn let out a shriek. It was like staring into the sun, and his effort to cover up the brilliance with his one hand proved futile. Funn wanted to tear his eyes out, the torture pained him so. Even Master wouldn't be this cruel, he thought.

"Please," he whimpered, "I'll do anything. I'll entertain your guests again; I'll even let them do that thing you did to me when I-I tried to escape! Just  _please_ oh please put that light out!"

"Oh my Gob!" The intruder scampered toward him, and the light was brought closer. "Finn! Bro, is that you!?"

"NO! Don't say that too loud, or Master will pull my fingernails! I'm Funn! Funn!"

"Bro, it's me! Your buddy Jake! You're safe now!" Funn clenched his eyes shut and looked away. He heard the intruder sniffle and knew, just knew, that he wrinkled his nose in disgust as he wrapped around him something warm and soft. A blanket. And he felt two arms wrap around him. "You're okay buddy. You're okay."

_No I'm not. I'm not okay. I'm Funn. And being Funn is never okay._

Funn felt something wet plop down on his blanket. And then another. The little intruder was trembling, Funn realized, who then lifted his head from his arm and shouted out, "Princess! Princess! I found him! HE'S IN HERE!" His voice made it seem like he was crying. Sobbing, actually. Funn didn't dare to look, lest there was a knife right in front of his face ready to poke his eyes out.

No knife came, but instead another pair of feet entered his dungeon. "FINN!" It was the female. She ran towards Funn and his "savior", and pulled the two of them into an embrace. "Oh Finn, we've found you. You're safe you're safe you're safe and we found you..." The female's strong, commanding demeanor from before seemed like an entirely separate entity now as she started to weep quietly like a small child. Her scent was the most pleasant thing Funn smelled in ages. It was sweet, like bubblegum.

And yet, he wouldn't stop wondering how long this farce will continue until another one of Master's goons would cut a toe off, or pull another tooth.


	2. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn analyzes a perplexing situation, while Bubblegum grapples with the truth of it. The Fire Kingdom hears a rumor.

**Fourteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Castle Medical Ward**

**4:30 P.M.**

**Funn the Human Wretch**

Whatever game Master was playing, he definitely pulled all the stops to make it convincing.

The entire ordeal had left Funn regrettably weary, and he passed out on the spot after his "saviors" blinded him with light from the sun. When he awoke, however long later, he found himself in a room that was much like the medical ward of the Candy Castle, right down to its gaudy tiled floor and the yellow brick walls. This whole place filled him with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, which made him sad once he remembered that Master will be entering the room any minute now with another visitor in need of Funn's entertainment; perhaps it would be a resident of the Candy Kingdom, if he were to make a guess.

His one arm had an IV attached, feeding his body water. Sunlight filled the room through the windows lining the ceiling, and for an hour Funn counted the dust motes floating about the place as the steady  _boop_ of the heart rate monitor filled what would otherwise be a soul-crushing the silence.

 _Just what am I waiting for? What's coming?_ he wondered, for the boy never, not once, let himself forget.

 _I'm Funn, and nothing but,_  he told himself. _That is all I'll ever be._

Obviously this was a test - that of his loyalty, after living with Master for half a year.

Master went through an impressive effort to recreate a memory from the other boy's life, back when he was a respectable denizen of Ooo before his reconditioning. Except he went as far as to scrub away the weeks spent building Funn's infamous musk; even his breath tasted fresh for the first time in half a year. Funn almost cried about his lost odor, knowing he'll have to start over again, but Master will understand. Master is very forgiving. His next entertainer probably desired a boy who smelled clean, so it made sense that they'd scrub him till he glowed pink.

Yet for all the splendor and alien sense of cleanliness, Funn knew he remained an ugly boy. Until the day he died his mouth would be a jagged ruin, with only a fraction of the pearly whites he once boasted, back when he was loved by another name and for another reason. His skin was pale, blotched purple and engraved with white from a multitude of scars and bruises he'd collected amidst the beatings or his more brutal lot of customers. His missing thumb ensured he would never be an effective fighter again, nor would he be anything short of a freak, as his severed ear would testify. Remembering it, Funn could have sworn he felt a square of gauze taped to the side of his head where his ear once was, but that was probably just the sleep leaving his body.

When the pink double doors at the end of the ward swung open, Funn saw the person entering looked a lot like Dr. Ice Cream, no different in appearance then when he last saw her under entirely different circumstances. The chocolate soft-serve that acted as a hair piece didn't look a swirl out of place, and when she saw Funn, her ever-present smile deepened. "Finn!" she said, her voice deep and warm and achingly familiar. "I'm happy to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

 _How am I feeling?_ Funn didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. One wrong word could cost him another finger, or a toe or a tooth.  _Just serve and smile,_  he told himself. _Just serve and smile and Master will let you keep your parts. Just serve his friends and be fun. Just remember what I am remember what I am remember what I am. I am Funn and nothing but. That is all I'll ever be._

Dr. Ice Cream paced towards Funn with a bounce in her step, doctor's bag in one hand and a pail of water in the other. She set the two down on the side of his bed, reached down into bucket and returned with a waterlogged sponge. Dr. Ice Cream squeezed the sponge of excess water and dabbed it across his forehead. It was cool to the touch. She never stop smiling, almost as if his presence brought her real joy. "Welcome home, Finn," she said as she toiled.

A ghostly arrow shot through Funn's chest.  _That isn't my name. Not anymore. I'm not worthy of such a respected name._ Funn knew he had no need to worry, however; so long as  _he_ remembered what he is, his most gracious Master would be kind and let him keep whatever parts he still had.

The smiling ice cream practitioner dropped the sponge into the pail before sifting through her bag. She stood back up with a syringe and a small phial filled with a green mixture. The long needle pierced the corked top and drank up a dose of the fluid. When Dr. Ice Cream spoke, her voice was gentle like a mother's. "This'll hurt for just a pinch," she said. "Here, squeeze my hand if you'd like." Without Funn's consent, she placed her hand in the palm of his four-fingered reminder.

He made no effort to close around it.  _This is a test,_ he told himself.  _Master just wants to make sure I don't do anything unless my customer demands me to. This wasn't a demand, but an offer._ Funn was impressed with himself for figuring this one out, and he grew hopeful at the prospect of a warm meal as a reward for passing.

When the needle pierced his forearm, Funn felt nothing. He still  _felt_  it, that was true, but he showed no reaction to it. Funn had been whacked and cut and beaten till his friends bled at the knuckles, and there was no pain half so excruciating as the that which prospered from entertaining. It was a different sort of pain that would drive any man or woman mad, let alone a fifteen-year-old boy, but Funn eventually accepted that he was no longer a person, and soon enough, learned to accept the pain and even find some enjoyment in it after a while, which only reaffirmed his standing as a human being.

_I'm Funn and nothing but. That is all I'll ever be._

"Dr. Ice Cream" took surprising care in removing the needle from his arm and throwing the syringe into a plastic bag. When she picked up her medical kit, along with the pail, she said, "You have some visitors, Finn," still smiling, of course, but Funn noticed a twinge of sadness lacing her words. She even lingered a second longer, expecting Funn to be foolish enough to respond before a falter was spotted in her cheerful demeanor.

With a sigh, she left him alone again.

Funn couldn't help but smile.

* * *

**Fourteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Castle Medical Ward Waiting Room**

**4:35 P.M.**

**Bonnibel Bubblegum, Self-Proclaimed "Prinscientist" of the Candy Kingdom**

"Any change in his condition, Doctor?" asked Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum. She was the first in the waiting room to stand from her place on the bench between Jake and Marceline the Vampire Queen.

Behind a willfully blank disposition, and hands rubbing together obsessively, the gnawing, insatiable beast of worry made a feast upon her insides. It hadn't lessened, not even a little, since before rescuing her hero.

When she saw her personal doctor's face, how crestfallen it was, the dread Bonnibel felt punched her in the gut. "Finn is awake," said Doctor Ice Cream. Her voice was grievous, like the boy had actually died, which didn't sit well with the princess.

"Is he alright?" she quickly asked. "May we speak to him?"

She  _felt_ the hope within her gaze, and Doctor Ice Cream regarded it, the princess, and her friends at her side with an open mouth and saddening eyes.

"Princess... I..." Dr. Ice Cream glanced at the sullen expression of Jake and the concerned one of Marceline before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Princess," she said, as if the whole situation was her fault, "I'm... I'm not a therapist, I don't think I can properly assess his..."

"Please, tell me," urged Bonnibel. "Don't tell me as a doctor, IC. Tell me as a friend." She concluded with a smile, a smile that only a true princess can give her subject, to assure her that it'll be okay.

Dr. Ice Cream caved, sighing deeply before she spoke. "Finn just...  _looked_  at me, Princess. He didn't say or do  _anything_. And his eyes... Gob,  _his eyes! ..._ Forgive me if I sound a bit over-dramatic PB, but his eyes... they were like a  _stranger's._ He was looking at me like he didn't know me! There was no anger, no sadness... nothing. He's like a... like a..."

" _A vegetable!_ " Jake cried. Everyone turned to the sobbing canine. "My boy's gonna be a vegetable for the rest of his life because we couldn't get to him fast enough!"

Marceline took off her leather jacket, wearing a white tank underneath, and draped it around Jake's shuddering body. Bonnibel couldn't even begin to imagine what he vampire friend was feeling, knowing how she felt about her role in Finn's disappearance. "He's not a vegetable," she assured him, without a hint of worry in her lovely voice. "He's just scared, that's all." A half-lie.  _Though I feel like I'm telling a big one,_ her eyes cried out. "Finn will need help readjusting, Jake."

Bubblegum took a seat beside Jake, and wrapped an arm tight around his shoulders. "All of our help," she added.  _And who will help the allegedly tough-as-nails, thousand-year-old princess? Oh Gob, Finn..._ Just thinking about him formed ice in her belly. Thinking back to the tortured, flayed little thing she and Jake found in the dungeon of that  _madhouse,_ her little hero and the champion of Ooo reduced to a broken pile of meat and bone...

 _I...I..._ "We should see him," she said. Jake, suddenly dry-eyed, sprang to his feet at the idea and Marceline voiced her agreement. "Do we have your leave, Doctor?" Dr. Ice Cream hesitated before nodding, allowing them clearance.

Bonnibel thanked the centuries given to master control over her "public face," so that it showed no more emotion than needed. It made her job that much easier.

As the trio strolled down the hall, Bonnibel gave herself a once over, pleased at her choice of casual attire for this visit. With only her tiara symbolizing her authority, and her wardrobe consisting of a pink hoodie and sweatpants of a darker shade, it gave Princess Bubblegum the "people look" she was convinced wouldn't overwhelm Finn in his first time really seeing her after half a year. She ignored the blatant truth that this wouldn't be necessary, had he been unchanged.

 _Half a year,_ she thought, angry with herself.  _What did I do in half a year, other than sit up in my lab on my fat butt trying to figure out who the only obvious person this "Master" was?_ Just thinking about the self-proclaimed "Master" made Bonnibel want to march down into the dungeon and slay him herself, but she knew better.  _But the things they...they made him DO. They...They..._ She would not bring herself to dwell further than she dared, and instead concerned herself with whether or not Jake knew what Finn really went through. Judging by the bounce in his step, one would think not.

 _But I know Jake,_ thought the princess.  _He doesn't think about stuff and he wears a mask, just like me._

Princess Bubblegum felt her heart clench when Jake slammed the doors to the medical ward open. " _Fiiiiiinn!"_ he called into the empty ward. Its one patient was looking up at the ceiling, regarding his friends like they were no more than fruit flies. But that didn't stop Jake, apparently, as his stretchy legs brought him to his bedside in a single step. "How you feelin', Bro? Hangin' in there?"

Finn's eyes dragged to meet them, like it were a great effort to do even that. Bonnibel felt a pang in her heart when she came to realize Dr. Ice Cream wasn't kidding; his eyes were cold, pale,  _dead,_  no more than two chips of dirty ice. The sight only worsened Princess Bubblegum's ache, and she couldn't stop herself from thinking back to the cute little weirdo who always gave her puppy dog eyes, when they were blue as the ocean and full of laughter.

Now she may never even hear the boy laugh again.  _  
_

"Finn?" Jake's tail-wagging slowed to a stop.

Bonnibel stepped beside Marceline and put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the chill her undead flesh always had. "Finn," she began, keeping her tone as comforting as a mother's, "though me, Jake and my Banana Guards were the ones who rescued you, Marceline here is the  _real_  hero. Without her keeping an eye on the sky and an ear to the ground, why, we'd probably still be looking for you all the way out in the  _Bad_   _Lands_."

"Good thing those guys leave a trail a blind ape could follow," Marceline joked, trying to lighten the mood.

But Finn was about as readable as a blank page in a journal.

Bonnibel broke the silence before it ran for too long. "Finn," she said once more, stepping up with her hands clasped before her, "if there's  _anything_  you need, from  _any_  of us, you need only to ask. I'll do anything in my power to give it to you."

Hair that one would be forgiven for confusing with straw fell over his eyes. Finn's eyes bounced to the three of them, looking like he was about to say something but nothing ever came. His gaze stopped over Bonnibel Bubblegum, hard as stone, with its weight feeling genuine upon her shoulders. He asked her in a croaky voice, "Are you my next customer, Your Grace?"

Bonnibel's inhale was tremulous.  _"Your Grace", he calls me. He just offered me his sick "services" like I was another perv visiting his Master._ Princess Bubblegum felt like screaming, but her mask muffled any attempts to do so.  _Ooo can't know that it's hero has returned._ _Not yet. Not like this._

There was a beat of absolute silence, short-lived with a whispered, sad,  _"Finn..."_ from Marceline.

"My name is Funn," he told Marceline. "I am here to serve at your pleasure." The way Finn spoke was strained, forced, like he had a crossbow aimed at him from the other side of the room. Nobody even realized it was Jake choking on sobs until it was too late.

* * *

**Fourteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Fire Kingdom: Chamber of the Red Throne**

**4:34 P.M.**

**Phoebe "the Flame Princess"**

The young fire queen pinched the bridge of her nose, praying to whoever was just in this world that it would cure her of the pain in the small of her back, her splitting headache, or the assembly of a hundred-something disgruntled flame people. "And what... do you want me to do, exactly?" she asked slowly.

"Isn't it obvious?!" cried the candlestick of a flame person that was knelt before her. "Declare war on the Candy Kingdom!"

 _Is this idiot for real?_ Flame Princess looked to her champion and protector, Cinnamon Bun, still as watchful as ever. She saw his hand tighten around the hilt of his long sword as the threats against his old home were made. She would've asked for his advice on the matter, but nowadays Flame Princess expected nothing short of the stoic pastry telling her to "listen to your heart" and leave it at that. Sometimes the little queen found herself pondering whether or not her faithful knight was still a little half-baked.

But nevertheless, she bucked up, straightened her back and ignored the pain that raged on inflicted by her heavy black iron suit.  _I'm melting this thing the first chance I get,_ she swore for the hundredth time. "I think it's a little silly to wage war on one of our  _own allies_ over a  _baby_."

"Not just any baby!" the candlestick said, his head flickering with rage. " _The Lich!_ " Several peasants chimed in and added to the fear and disgust that went about the room.

Flame Princess shut her eyes, letting it wash over her before speaking. "Princess Bubblegum has  _assured_  me that the baby is under constant watch. It's yet to show any signs of aggression outside of throwing a temper tantrum when he refused to take a bubble bath." The sweetness of her voice was the icing on the cake, and soon the whole assembly turned on their ringleader and were laughing at him. Even Cinnamon Bun was smiling with a rather sinister grin.

But the laughter was cut abruptly short as a familiar little flambit barged into the throne room. Two Molten Guards were in pursuit. "Princess!" he cried.  _"Your Highness!"_

"Flambo!?" There was only one reason why Flame Princess should even be seeing the little fire cat, and the urgency of his voice was unsettling. Flame Princess stood up from the Red Throne.  _This can't be good._ "What is it, Flambo?" she asked. A single raise of her hand made the two guards stop in their tracks and bow before her.  _They don't need to bow!_ she mentally complained.

"What is it?" cried Flambo. "Wha-Wha- _What is it?_  I'll-a tell yous what it is, an' I'll tell ya again that youse can trust the word of old Flambo! I did as yous asked, y'know? With scoutin' Ooo for any signs o' Finn, and guess what? They found the little tyke!  _Ha-har!_ Th-The look on your face FP, I'm sorry! But it's true! He's alive an' well, licking his boo-boos like a freakin' war hero or somethin' over at the Candy Castle!"

Silence fell upon the throne room.  _Finn?_ Flame Princess felt magma tears bead the corners of her eyes.  _He's... Finn's alright?_

* * *

**Author's Note: This story contains the POVs of numerous characters. As such, it may be disorienting to some trying to figure out who's who and when this event is taking place. For future reference, the header of each "section" will always begin with the name or some variation of the name of the character the scene is following.**


	3. Kindled Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire is spat between friends and foes alike; a wildfire spreads, and the flames of one's heart is doused by a reality most cruel.

**Fifteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Castle Medical Ward Waiting Room**

**5:01 P.M.**

**Marceline**

"So... what do we do, Princess?" asked Jake.

After half an hour of absolute quiet, where the three friends had time to silently absorb the situation, Jake's question startled Bonnie out of her deep thought. Judging from her reaction, Marceline presumed, she was thinking pretty hard.

"What do we do?" echoed Bonnie, obviously speaking off the top of her head. "Well...'officially,' Finn is still missing. We help him recover, and until he's better we keep our silence. Ooo will want to see its hero, and Finn just... he's not  _ready_  for that kind of exposure." Poor old Jake nodded, sullen, but understanding.

It was the answer that Marceline Abadeer had expected.  _Oh Bonnie, you never fail to disappoint._ That did nothing to soften the blow, however. Even Marceline couldn't guess where to go from here - and it took all of her being not to think about the past.  _What matters is now, what matters is saving Finn: that's what you told me, Bonnie._

"I... wouldn't get our hopes up," Marceline advised. "I've seen a lot of things in my day. Crazy things.  _Twisted things._ There's been people in Finn's state who did some  _pretty bad_  stuff... You... You think we can really help him?"

Bonnie turned to Marceline, hands clasped and upon her heart, eyes focused on the space between her black leather boots and the tiled floor of the waiting room. "We have to try," she mumbled, just loud enough for her and Jake to hear. "What Finn needs is  _long_ steady, easy recovery." Without warning, Bonnie took Marceline's hand in her own and Jake's as well. "By the people that love him," she added. "He should be surrounded by the people that love him."

Jake took an immediate liking to the idea. "Hey, yeah! Some of my home cooking and a bit of good ol' fashioned adventuring is sure to bring Finn out of his mopey-dopey coma." When he smiled at Bonnie, she reflected the gesture and gave his paw a little squeeze. His tail wagged hopefully.

But Marceline had known Bonnie longer than Jake has, and knew from the darkness in her soft-hearted gaze, that many, many grim things were currently encircling her mind. She knew it, and Marceline did too: this was a fickle venture at best. Chances are the old Finn was long gone, grim as that may be.

Marceline would have wondered, then, why Bonnie felt compelled to lie to Jake as well as herself.

She would have, had Bonnie's well-being been even  _half_ as important to her right now as Finn's.

"I'll do what I can," she swore to the princess. "Finn's the..."  _The first friend I made in a hundred years._ "...he's a good kid. And..."  _This is all my fault anyway._ "...And there's  _no way_  I'll leave him hanging."

Bonnie's fingers tightened around Mareceline's pale digits. "Thank you," she said, smiling.

Marceline grinned with her mouth, but not her eyes. Though chances are her longtime friend knew the difference.  _Finn..._  she thought.  _Finn you little idiot you should have listened to me! Why did you wander off without us?! Why...why did you trust me?_ Marceline was glad her tear ducts dried up and withered away centuries ago. The Vampire Queen probably couldn't live with being labeled a milksop, and the one who ruined Ooo's last surviving human to boot.

A sudden thought had crept its way into her mind. "I'd stay away from the adventuring," she told Jake.  _He could barely hold a sword, I think, let alone fight._ "I mean, the little guy has  _probably_ been through a lot of crap these past few months. I don't think  _surrounding_  him with more fighting and junk would be the smartest idea."

Jake contemplated the floor a moment, then looked back at Marceline. "Yeah, I guess you're right."  _More than you know._ "Alright Marcy, no adventuring. So what now?" He let his hand fall from Bonnie's grasp; without even realizing it, Marceline kept her fingers and the candy princess's locked, ignoring the slight stickiness her gummy skin always had.

 _It was worth it,_  reaffirmed a small, quiet, dark corner of her messed-up head.  _It's worth the comfort you so desperately need right now. Even if you don't realize it._

"Well," she almost didn't notice Bonnie start, noticing her free hand move to rub her chin, "the wisest thing to do would be to let him rest. Just until his...  _injuries_  heal. Then we can bring him home. I think he'll be well enough tomorrow morning."

"Heh-heh, good." The fleeting mirth left Jake's face, suddenly growing dark. "And what about our friend down in the dungeon?" he asked, tone maintaining a steady wolfish growl. "Give me two minutes, P-Bubs, and I'll have that little worm crushed." He slammed an oversized fist into his open palm for emphasis.

Marceline raised her hand. "I call leftovers."

Being the lawful princess that Marceline loved to hate, Bonnie shook her head. "No, Jake. He's still a part of another kingdom. A disgusting one, yes, but a kingdom nonetheless. Doing anything rash could lead to catastrophic ends."

"Then put all the blame on me!" Jake proposed. Marceline grinned; his compassion was so heartwarming that it almost got her dusty old ticker beating once more. "I can take it! Finn and I have faced off against those jerks before. Just give me a truckload of coffee and a good set of earmuffs and I can take on their entire army myself."

Marceline smirked and bumped her fist against his. "Save some for me, why don'tcha?"

Bonnie shot her a glare that said, "Don't encourage him; shut your mouth before I shut it for you." Even if she had the heart and spirit right now to do so, Marceline knew better than to egg her on. She instead dropped both feet to the floor with her hands folded and solemnly said, "Alright,  _fine..._   _I agree_ , we shouldn't execute the monster who turned Ooo's hero into half a zombie. You're totally right, Bon."

It was hard to resist sometimes - especially when it made so much damn  _sense_.

"Oh, Marceline," Bonnie sighed. For a moment there, she sounded like she wanted nothing more than to get some sleep, leaving the vampire to ponder how little she's slept since recovering Finn. "This is a delicate situation we're dealing with here. One wrong move and I could put my entire kingdom in jeopardy."

Marceline leaned back on nothing but air, waving her hands in dismissal. "Fine, whateves," was all she said before dropping the subject completely; Bonnie always had her own way of doing things, and it usually was the best in the long run anyway.

Though such insolence would appear rude to an outsider, a close friend like Bonnie knew that Marceline held great respect for the responsibilities she took on as ruler of the Candy Kingdom. The Vampire Queen just could not imagine what it must be like to always have her "public face" on, and govern one of the most powerful kingdoms in Ooo, while always looking over her shoulder for poor old Simon Petrikov and, on top of all that, tend to her every subjects' wants and desires. And now she just added "take care of Finn because his stupid vampire friend didn't keep a close eye on him" to her checklist.

The longer she dwelt, the worse Marceline's insides twisted up.  _Why did I have to kick those two out of their tree house all those years ago?_  she thought.  _It would have been SO easy just to see them sleeping in their beds and tell myself "No, not today." But no. Instead, I thought it would be fun to mess with them. And then we started hanging out, and I grew to LIKE the weenies and attached and actually_ care _about them like a...like a..._

She couldn't even think of the word, like her brain itself would choke on it, and the pressure welled inside Marceline sharp and suddenly until she blurted out without a second thought, "Bonnie!?"

Jake and said princess turned, both a little taken aback by Marceline's suddenness. "Bon," she recast, a bit more calmly, "don't..."  _Be cool, Marceline. You have to be cool in front of the only two people that knows you're faking it..._ Marceline sighed, silently cursing her thoughts.

"Marceline?" Bonnie was looking at her with those pig purple eyes of hers, the kind she always got when comforting her subjects.

Or an old friend.

Marceline forced herself to blurt it out, before the silence became too awkward to bear. " _Just don't... dont,_ stress yourself over Finn, is all I'm saying."

It would take a long, long time to help Finn. And Bonnie might have the biggest, juiciest brain in Ooo... but Mareline knew people a lot better. And she also knew Bonnie better than she knew herself.

 _I should tell her,_ decided Marceline. But she knew already that it wouldn't be pretty.

"Let Jake and I take care of the little guy, cuz you've got  _better_  things to do than get caught up in  _this_  mess." Marceline would have stuffed her hand into her mouth and bitten on it if she didn't have any self respect. But "would've"s and "should've"s aren't going to take back what she said.  _Why did I say THAT? Stupid stupid stupid..._

" _Better_ things to do?" Bonnie angrily stuffed her hands in her hoodie pockets and stepped forward. "Marceline, one of my  _best friends_ needs me! I'm not just gonna  _stand by_  and _ignore him_  when I just got him back! When he needs me most!"

"I didn't mean-!"  _Why can't I say it!? Urgh!_ Marceline angrily breathed through her nose and shot knives at the mocking orange sky. "Really, Bon, we can handle it," is what she decided on saying. "And I know you feel responsible for Finn, but...well, I  _know_  you! You have too much on your plate!"

"My  _plate?_ " Her tone was cold enough to freeze water. "You're saying that Finn isn't important enough to me to prioritize!" It wasn't a question, but a statement.  _  
_

 _Stupid! Me and my big fanged_ _mouth._ Marceline felt that nothing she could say right then and there would coax Bonnie into calming down, not after what she just heard.

She continued without heed. "Do you know how bad that makes me  _feel?_ " she shrieked, her face blood-red. "Marcy, the  _Lich_  could be reborn tomorrow, and I'd  _still_  have room on my plate for Finn! Flame Princess could declare war on all the neighboring kingdoms and this 'Master' execute an escape plan the very next day, and even then, I'd have room for Finn! Magic Man wreaking havoc and Ice King kidnapping every princess under the sun with LSP moaning about her lack of a love life in my ear and even with all that,  _all THAT,_  I'd  _still_ have room for Finn! And if I just didn't have any, then I'd push a bit off and make some, dang it!" When her rant concluded, a light pink slowly returned to Bonny's huffing face.

Marceline didn't know how to respond - to any of that. How could she?

Silence hung just long enough for her to hear Jake mutter,  _"Drama Princess."_ But only for that.

For another presence was felt in the room; one that smelled of a summer campfire and had a voice that Marceline thought she'd never hear again.

"Hello?" asked the little voice of Flame Princess. "Is Finn here? Can I see him?" They turned, and there she was, dressed up to her neck in sinister black armor, hair sputtering like wildfire, eyes soft and innocent as a newborn lamb's.

* * *

**Fifteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Castle Medical Ward Waiting Room**

**5:05 P.M.**

**Flame Princess**

"You!?" Princess Bubblegum shrieked like a harpy, and even squawked like one too as she tripped and flustered over her own words until she managed to force out, "Wha-? What in the  _world_ are you doing here!? How'd you know about Finn?"

 _This is how you greet delegates from neighboring kingdoms? Urgh, relax, FP. Relax. One...Two...Three...Four..._ Flame Princess exhaled heavily through her nose.

At Bubblegum's sides, Marceline and Jake the Dog stood with their arms folded. The old mutt looked more shocked than angry to see the girl that broke Finn's heart a year ago - he always was a relaxed kind of guy, but even so, something  _clearly_  had him on edge.

 _It's not like it was all my fault._ Regardless, Flame Princess was as glad to see him as she was confused about the trio's behavior. "What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "You found Finn, right?"

The princess of the Candy Kingdom shot a look at her two companions, teeth gritting and face reddening. " _Yes,_ " she hissed, slowly turning back. "But how did  _you_  know that?  _Who else knows?"_

Bubblegum's fury, Flame Princess came to realize, was not borne of malice but of fear.  _She didn't want anybody knowing that Finn is back? Why?_ Flame Princess quirked a brow. "What's going on here?" she asked. "Why is it so bad that I not see Finn?" When none of them answered, aside from the grating sound of Bubblegum grinding her teeth into meal, Flame Princess frowned. "Is this about me?" Both her hands lifted, gesturing. "Can't we just let bygones be bygones? We should all be at Finn's bedside! Not arguing here like a bunch of _little kids_."

A disparaging snicker from Bubblegum. "Of course you would think this is about  _you_. That's  _so_   _typical_  of fire people."

Flame Princess blinked once in disbelief, hearing this again in her head, before she stuck a pinkie in her ear and leaned in a little closer. "Pardon? Did I hear that right?"

Marceline started hovering away, hands risen up as a mock shield. "Woah. I'm staying out of this one," she muttered.  _It's just Bubblegum being Bubblegum. Just Bubblegum being Bubblegum._ _One...Two...Three...Four..._

"Seconded." Jake followed suit, his hands fused and molded into the likeness of an actual riot shield.

The princess's arms crossed over her bosom; turning away, the turquoise in her circlet flashed angrily in the orange sunset filling the room. "I'm not telling you  _anything,_ " she snarled. "Not until you tell us how you know about Finn." You'd have to be a half-baked cinnamon bun to miss the hostility in her tone.

Flame Princess swallowed a groan, noticing the parallel between her kingdom and the situation she's in now.  _They aren't going to let me in until I fess up. Fair enough._ "I had a friend running all over Ooo, looking for Finn." Now she folded her arms, awaiting Bubblegum's inevitably furious reply.

"So you had spies without the rest of the land knowing it?" Bubblegum's teeth clenched hard. Flame Princess stifled a giggle at how alike her face looked to a strawberry.

 _Oh P-Bubs. You never fail to meet my expectations._ She shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yeah, I did. Well, only one. But what's your point? You certainly have your share of secrets, so why can't I have mine, Ms. 'I-put-a-tracking-device-in-Finn's-ear'?"

Jake and Marceline snickered, but silenced immediately after a sharp glare from Princess Bubblegum. "Alright, fine," she grumbled, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets. One would be forgiven if they mistook the casually-dressed Princess Bubblegum as a teenager who had just been grounded to her room. "Very well. I shall let that slide, but only if you tell me that you and your little spy are the only ones that know."

 _Uh-oh._ Flame Princess felt her insides twist up. Whatever secrets Princess Bubblegum was trying to concoct, she seemed hellbent on keeping them. And her raging about was the last thing Flame Princess wanted to hear at the moment. "Finn has been missing for half a year and you want to argue about  _this_  nonsense?"

"Do your people know," Bubblegum started, slow with a controlled fury in her tone, "or not?"

Flame Princess wanted to scream. She wanted to hurl a fireball and Bubblegum's stupid snarling face and barge into the medical ward herself.  _Why is she being so DIFFICULT!? What's wrong with me seeing Finn!?_ But Flame Princess remembered the lessons Cinnamon Bun taught her; she exhaled deeply through her nose, counted to five and cleared her mind and answered with all the pleasantness she could muster. "If I recall," she started, smiling with her mouth but not her eyes, "you were the first princess to support me in turning the Fire Kingdom into a land governed by truth and honesty."

That was all Princess Bubblegum needed to hear. She turned her back on Flame Princess, inhaling through her nose and exhaling by the mouth. "Well," she said to no one but the wall, "that's that then! I can't swear the entire Fire Kingdom to silence, now can I?"

All the while Jake and Marceline approached the ironclad fire elemental. "I wouldn't push her if I were you, kid," Marceline advised, keeping a noticeably farther distance than Jake from the fire elemental and the brilliant heat and light she radiated.

"Yeah," Jake agreed, nodding, "I'd suggest coming back on a later date, when Prubbles don't got a mountain of food on her plate."

"Her what?" Flame Princess shook the thought from her head, her fiery hair whirling and hissing as she did. "Jake, please, can't you just let me see Finn? He's my friend too, and I want to see him." That was all Flame Princess wanted to say in that regard, but it wasn't the full story. In truth, she feared that Finn was forever lost four months into his six month captivity in Grod-knows-where. Flame Princess pondered for a long time about her and Finn's ugly breakup, and the embarrassment he made of himself when trying to reclaim the red throne from Don John and her father. She came to greatly regret never spending time with Finn as a friend, especially when she heard about the botched reunion with his two-faced father that resulted in a broken heart and a lost arm.  _He should have called me. I would have been willing to talk. Why didn't he call me?_ These very questions haunted her many nights - she might finally have the chance to have them answered, then.

But Flame Princess knew in her heart, that there was no reason to justify the fact that she hadn't even spoken to Finn before, or since, the Don John incident, and as his ex-girlfriend and alleged friend, that was unacceptable. Whatever her reasons, she knew voicing them would only result in her feeling worse about the situation than she already did. And if Bubblegum denied her entry, it would be treason to disobey.

"Just go home, FP," Jake said, clearly trying to sound as courteous as possible while essentially telling her to take a hike. "I'll let you know when Finn is feeling better, I promise."

"How bad is he?" she had to ask. "Fla-I mean, my sources, say that he was 'licking his wounds like a war hero'. How much of that was just a fictitious story?" She hoped the jape would lighten the dour mood, but it only seemed to have any effect on Jake.

But even with him, the humor seemed to have almost sailed completely over his head, had it not been for the faint smirk that played across his lips. "It was Flambo, wasn't it?" he asked, humor faint in his tone. Flame Princess hesitated a nod. Jake shook his head. "Figures. Who knows what that guy saw? Listen FP, Finn is...he's gonna need some time to recover, alright? The poor guy's been through a lot."

 _What happened to Finn!?_ she wanted to scream. The suspense felt like a knife in the gut.  _One...Two...Three...Four..._

"Jake..." Flame Princess placed a lobstered hand on his shoulder. She sensed the skin underneath his fur prickle at its surprisingly cold touch. "Jake, as Finn's friend I'd like to help him in any way I can. Please." She looked to Marceline, hidden from the setting sun's light in the darkening shadows, and then Princess Bubblegum, one hand on her hip and the other clamped over her mouth, deep in thought. Flame Princess almost felt bad for the conniving candy queen; it was clear that she didn't want anyone knowing Finn had returned, at least not yet. The why of it though was still a mystery.

"I know," she continued, "I know that deep down, you don't want me to hurt him. And I don't know what I can say to assure you that that is not my intention. Just five minutes, Jake? Please?"

It broke her heart to see the look Jake had right then and there. Clearly he wanted to be nice to Flame Princess, and may even thought for a second that seeing her would help Finn with whatever he was going through. But on the other hand...she didn't know.  _What's on the other hand?! One...Two... Oh, w_ _hat happened to you, Finn?_

Surprising everyone in the room, Princess Bubblegum was the one who finally granted Flame Princess entry to see Finn.

Though the candy queen made sure to pour as much salt into old wounds as possible on her way in. "Very well," she started, voice already dripping with venom. She had her back turned to Flame Princess. "Fine. Go see Finn. Go to him, and when you see him, I want you to  _look_ at the storm your little spy games have wrought upon his life." When Bubblegum turned, a pang shot through Flame Princess's passionate heart: tears beaded the corners of her soft purple eyes. "And I'm sure seeing you isn't going to screw his head up anymore than it already is. So go.  _Go._ " Princess Bubblegum pulled a handkerchief from her hoodie pocket and wiped away any evidence that she was capable of genuine compassion.

Flame Princess almost didn't want to go in, for fear of both the unknown ahead and Princess Bubblegum's warning had its claws hooked in deep. When she slowly pressed on, she found herself stopped by Jake's arm extended and molded as a velvet rope. "Uh, FP? You got anything under..." He gestured to her whole body. "...that?"

"Yes?" she answered, awkwardly.

"Please, remove your armor," was what Princess Bubblegum said. Her voice sounded thick, forced in trying to be strong. "He may have been intimidated by our 'regal appearance' after not seeing us for so long. Can you do that much, for him?"

 _Are they trying to humiliate me, or make me feel bad?_ Flame Princess could not say for sure, and in the end she consented with a nod, seeing no benefit in arguing over that. She opened the iron fastenings of her breastplate and let it fall with a heavy  _thunk,_ then undid the clasps on both wrists and let her gauntlets clatter to the floor as well. Before long, her second skin was shed, leaving Flame Princess in a state she hadn't felt in what seemed like thousands of years: vulnerability; a vulnerability to the elements, the light draft in the room and the stares of three people she never expected to be so exposed to, with only a thin white dress clinging to her rather generous figure.

"Is this good?" she asked, hands tucked in her armpits.

Princess Bubblegum wordlessly opened the door and allowed the fire queen to enter.

* * *

**Fifteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Castle Medical Ward**

**5:09 P.M.**

**Funn**

When the double doors at the end of his private ward opened, Funn half expected to see the Dr. Ice Cream lookalike again, or Princess Bubblegum taking up his offer.  _There was once a time where I would've loved to entertain the Candy Queen,_ he thought.  _But now she's just another customer, using me for fun and nothing else. I'm Funn and nothing but. That is all I'll ever be._

But instead it wasn't another customer, or the good doctor, but a ghost; a ghost from the other boy's past: a ghost with glowing orange skin, fleshy and soft, and hair red and blazing like a bonfire. She even dressed like a ghost, clad in a simple white dress which barely brushed past her knees.

"Your Grace," he croaked.  _I remember you. You're just as beautiful as the other boy remembered._ Funn gasped a little, realizing what he just thought.  _That was wrong of me. Oh Master, I'm sorry._ Funn struggled to raise his hand, but when he finally did, he brushed it across his own cheek as a weak little slap.  _It'll have to do, until Master can distribute proper punishment. That is what I deserve._

The Fire Queen strode slowly towards his bedside, hands folded over her little round belly. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates as they analyzed every inch of his body.

"You find me repulsive, Your Grace?" asked Funn. He flashed her a broken smile to prove a point.

The Fire Queen shook her head, slowly, with her lips slightly parted. Whether it was to his question, or disbelief over his state of being, Funn could not say for sure, for "Finn..." was all she said. Her voice sounded pained, for some reason; like Princess Bubblegum's from before.

"That's not my name, Your Grace. You're thinking of that other boy, who was once a hero to many and a bane to others. I'm just Funn, and nothing but. That is all I'll ever be." With that, Funn turned his head away from her, hoping that doing so would block the memories from flowing in.  _I mustn't remember. Too many memories of her-memories of the old boy. Master had me whipped when I said her name aloud, and he trusted me not to remember again. He TRUSTED me._

"Finn..." came the Fire Queen's soft little voice, sounding like she was now at his bedside. He could feel the heat radiating from her bared flesh. "What...  _happened to you?_ " Her voice trembled.

Funn shifted his head, looking up at the ceiling now, but not at her.  _Mustn't look. Mustn't remember. My eyes were never meant to look upon her, whose face is so fair. If she chooses to look upon me, then let her see what the old boy went through so that I may be born._ Funn grabbed his blanket in between two of his four remaining fingers, and pulled the covers down, past his bloated and hollow belly, past every cut, every lash, and every scar that marked his skin for his insolence and blotted with every kind of bruise imaginable, from blood-red to blue and yes, even purple. His left nipple was but a memory, swapped instead for a hideous brown and red scab that would likely remain a scar for the rest of his days. The Fire Queen whipped her hands up at the very sight, covering her mouth presumably. "I deserved this," he admitted.

A sharp sniffle. "Finn," she started, "you've acted like a  _pretty big_ dumb-butt before, but I swear...if you say that you...deserved  _this,_ I'll _..._ "

_Hiss-hiss-hiss_

Funn smelled burning linen, and made out the thin tails of smoke that passed through his field of vision.  _Even her tears are fire._ "I did," he affirmed, voice croaky and devoid of life, as it should be. "I'm a wretched little thing, Your Grace. Always. Once upon a time, I went by another name. And that boy lusted for you in ways even  _he_ didn't understand." A brief silence to allow the words to sink in. "But Master found him, and explained his disgusting habits. He explained what the boy's developing body was going through when he saw you battling the Ice King." Funn remembered the fight like it was yesterday, and the tingling feeling he had when dreaming about it later that night. Nowadays he felt nothing. Master saw to that. "He gave the boy what he desired, in the form of beatings and flaying."

Funn wondered for a second over what the Fire Queen was thinking. She probably saw him for the sick freak he truly was. "Even you went by another name, Your Grace," he explained. "Flame Princess."

"I still am," she said. Her tone suggested otherwise. "And your name is Finn the Human."

"No I'm not."  _I'm no one. I'm Funn, and nothing but. That is all I'll ever be._

"Yes, you are!" She sounded like a child begging her parents to buy her a puppy. "Your name is Finn the Human! You have a best friend named Jake, and you live in a tree house with a talking gaming device named BMO! You're the hero of Ooo, and champion of Princess Bubblegum of the Candy Kingdom, and you were my-! My..." She didn't finish, gasping pitifully, gazing sadly at the thing that once called itself Finn.

Funn knew better than to argue with customers, but even before his reconditioning he knew better than to prod at the wound of an elemental, so he withheld his thoughts. "We're always morphing into different people, Your Grace. Always. Sometimes we just don't know it. But Master does. Master always does."  _With his ways of drilling into your brain and that incantation droning away like a siren when he wants you to do something._ Funn hadn't had the honor of being 'looked into' by Master, however. He's been very weak, ever since an encounter with the other boy some time ago.

* * *

**Author's Note: A note o** **n the POVs and characters' names - because some people are asking - No, Funn is NOT a spelling error. Finn has been in captivity the last six months. In that time, he was treated in ways that no man ever should, and became this Master's "entertainer" for guests of his. Alias "Funn." If you don't know what I mean by that, perhaps it is for the best. I won't ever be outright showing it in order to keep this rated T.**

**As for other characters, I sometimes write their names differently depending on whose perspective it is. Notice how in Marceline's section Bubblegum is never referred to as a princess? Just "Bonnie" or "Bonnibel"? Or in Flame Princess's section PB is called "conniver" and "Queen"? This is intentional, to give each their own unique sort of flair and how they view each person.**

**Anyways, thank you all for reading and reviewing, should you choose to leave one.**


	4. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flame Princess and Marceline ignore their errors

**Fifteen Hours Since Finn's Rescue**

**Fire Kingdom: Castle**

**5:15 P.M.**

**Flame Princess**

_What have I done?_

She didn't even linger to say goodbye; she just collected her armor and shot out the window so fast it should have broken the sound barrier. Flame Princess could not have cared less about her subjects ogling her as she flew by in her nighties, nor about how  _rudely_  she dismissed her court - illegible screams and barked orders were a valid form of communication in the Fire Kingdom after all. They filed out - every fool and cupbearer and steward and councilman - grumbling under their breath as they passed through the great volcanic threshold held open by Cinnamon Bun.

Flame Princess collapsed to her knees before her throne, elbows propped upon its stone-hard seat, cupping her forehead. Her eyes felt heavy, darting about the throne beneath her gaze, analyzing every crack and fracture. She lacked the mind to even mumble a thanks to Cinnamon Bun, for staying with her. She needed her best friend to talk to - and perhaps he knew that already.

When it was just the two of them, CB approached his princess upon cautious footsteps; he uttered nothing, intently listening to her soft little huffs echo throughout her now-vacant throne room. It must have been quite the sight, appearing suddenly like this, her ancestral, kingly black set spilled out from a sugar-scented pillowcase somewhere before her throne: leggings, breastplate and all. Flame Princess didn't even know where, precisely, she dropped it - she only knew it was clutched in her hand, cloth singing one moment, then the next... she'd dropped it.

 _Finn..._ echoed in her mind the umpteenth time. It was the only thought she could possibly form at the moment, and when it would, she'd remember that awesome, courageous hero she'd never stopped caring about - even if he betrayed her trust. Such images would last for a moment, though, before they were replaced with that broken, scarred boy who just blatantly confessed to...  _to..._

Flame Princess laid back, sighing, rubbing her bare, orange thighs. "Cancel all appointments, Cinnamon Bun," she said, half in thought and half in reality. She felt half-dead, really.

"I can't do that, Flame Princess," claimed the ser. "That is a job for Seismic Pool, your steward."

"Then tell him, please."

"You kicked him out."

It took every fiber in her being not to explode right then and there. "Then head out and find him," she told Cinnamon Bun, slow and evenly like he were once again a half-baked halfwit. She was relieved, for both herself and her loyal knight, that Cinnamon Bun said no more, as the solemn echo of the triangular door shutting indicated.

 _I shouldn't have done that,_ she realized soon after.  _I need someone to talk to._

Flame Princess hunched forward in her giant throne, face burying in her hands. "What did I do? What did I  _do?_ "  _I ran like a coward. Finn wouldn't do that it I were in his position, and_ I _would..._ Flame Princess couldn't spare more then half a thought contemplating what she did or could have done, it pained her so. Finn...  _Finn... who DID this to you?_

"They must be lying," she muttered in a breath. "That wasn't Finn,  _they were lying_. It-It should be  _treason,_ to... to lie to a princess."  _The real Finn has four fingers and he smiles bright as a flame. He has silky golden hair and eyes that are as deep and blue as the ocean. That thing back there had none of those things. They were lying! They had to be..._ lying _..._

Molten hot tears squeezed through her fingers. Flame Princess couldn't erase it, couldn't stop thinking about it - that sack of meat with chips of ice for eyes, and a ruin of a smile, who was once the boy she'd fantasized about  _marrying_  so many times.

And now her whole kingdom, the whole world, would know the truth - and it was all because of  _her,_ breaking her own promise in the name of the greater good. Heck, she sounded like PB now, and Flame Princess couldn't decide if that was tragic or ironic.

 _'I deserved this,'_ she vaguely remembered him telling her about two minutes ago. The rest was a blur, half of her listening to him, and the other her own hurricane of a thought process... What did he mean in reference to her fight with the Ice King?

 _Do I even want to know?_ "I should have just listened to Bubblegum," she told the throne. "And now Finn is...his life...oh,  _Gro-hod._ " She rubbed her eyes hard with the heels of her palms. "What did I  _do_?"

"Something terrible, if I may be the judge of such things," came a voice from above.

Flame Princess had almost forgotten she was never alone in the throne room, not truly. The tears in her eyes sizzled and faded on the spot, and her hands became wreathed in golden flame. "Don John," she growled. The voice was unmistakable, that low rasp with a hint of an accent.

The Flame Lord's chuckle sounded a hollow rumble within his glass prison. "At your staunch service, Your Magnificence."

His mockery was palpable; John always had that irritating smirk on his lips, like there was this big joke that only he knew about. It never failed to put her on edge. "What do you want, traitor?" she snapped, not in any mood for such games with the wizard of flame.

High up in the lantern, Don John sat with his goat legs crossed. "To be free," he said. "To be the most powerful wizard in the world with a beautiful wife and lots of money. But we can't get everything we want, now can we?" Only John laughed at his joke.  _It was a joke, right?_  Because if it wasn't, why would he laugh at all? "Come here, Your Grace. I grow oh so lonely these days, and your father is like a broken record. I grow tired of whooping his bronze can at arm wrestling."

Flame Princess stood, her eyes red and glaring at the wizard. "It's rude to demand things of your king," she reminded him, hair splayed out in every direction to appear threatening.

"Then let us be thankful you are not a king. You are a queen." His yellow-lipped smile was slimy and glistening wet with treachery -  _You will NEVER change the Fire Kingdom for good,_ it said his words could not. Word games with Don John were almost a part of her schedule at this point.

Flame Princess's eyes narrowed, arms crossed, and her legs became a tail of fire. She ascended up to Don John, meeting his eye, sneaking only a tiny glance past his shoulder to see her father sleeping. "Would you like another cold shower, DJ?" she asked. "I'd be  _more_  than happy to oblige. If you hadn't noticed, I'm in a pretty rotten mood."

"You mean moreso than usual?" John's smile faded when he saw the queen's scowl darken. "Bad joke. Apologies. Being trapped in this lantern for, what, a year now? It has me a tad bit on-edge. No, Flame Princess, I would just like to talk. Spare me this one kindness."

Flame Princess took a minute to size up the lord, taking note of his snakelike eyes, lying lips, the horns on his head that reminded her of a demon. "I don't like you, Don John," she told him with chilly courtesy. "I don't like the way you smile. I don't like how you conspired with my father, and turned my subjects against me. I don't like how you wanted to  _marry me._ Now if you'll be so kind..." She turned, and was only prepared to begin her descent when Don John cried out, "Wait!"

She halted - he sounded genuine, like he truly didn't want her to go. Flame Princess turned slightly, giving him only a suspicious glare to work with. "Just wait," he repeated. "Please, I want to explain. About the marriage...it was never truly like that."

"Dude..."

"Can you blame an old goat for wanting to secure his family's legacy?"

" _Dude!_ Legacy? I'm a teen and you're, like, forty! What the heck does that say about you!?"

Don John took a few seconds to mull over her words, looking more confused than guilty. "Well," he started, "I'd say it makes me a nice man who is concerned for his family's future. Besides, it's not like I would have tied you up and forced you to marry. I  _am_ a gentleman, after all."

Flame Princess thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess there's that."  _But I still don't like you._ There was a lingering sense of  _deja vu_ about this whole conversation she just couldn't ignore. Too well, she remembered Don John's pathetic attempts at "explaining" himself, in which he proudly regaled the tale of how her father offered him a seat on his high council if his daughter should ever come to overthrow him.  _If you told me about the coup,_ she thought, for possibly the millionth time since the ordeal took place,  _I would have given you that spot. You would've became my court sorcerer._

But fate had other plans - she was still king, her father still trapped, and her mage was that pile of coals, Magmeius - a true dummy. "If you think good behavior is gonna get you outta here early," she told the wizard, "then you've got another thing coming."

"Think, child," he advised like a kindly master. "Where would I go? I've probably lost all my property by now, and I believe my wizard's membership expired a while back. Nowhere to really go, but here. And I bet even in my own home I'm unwanted." Don John chuckled a bit. Flame Princess suddenly felt like she had snakes wriggling under her skin; even when trying to act what is presumed as casual, he comes off as sneaky and deceitful.

"So you did something really bad?" he reminded her. For a minute there, asking her a question with such intrigue and rapport in his gravelly voice, gave the Flame Lord a strange paternal vibe that Flame Princess had never experienced for herself.

Admittedly, Flame Princess had forgotten all about her woes whenever she engaged in conversation with Don John. Being reminded of what she'd seen, so abruptly, was like a bad taste in her mouth that she just wanted gone again.  _He did that on purpose,_ she tried, convincing herself.  _He knew that I was starting to forget, so he brought it up._ She stamped out that fleeting moment of seemingly paternal affection from before.

"I'm guessing this is connected to Finn the Human?" he asked, knowing the obvious answer; it was clear he was trying to get under her skin. "A good lad, I'd say. Thick in the skull but swift with a sword, from what I hear. How is he faring?"

"Not good," said Flame Princess's lips.  _I didn't mean to say that!_ And yet words continued tumbling out of her honest little mouth: "He's in..."  _Nowhere. He's completely lost his mind and there's nothing I can do about it._ "He's a mess," she finally managed to blurt out. "And I just made his problems a whole lot worse, DJ."

The Flame Lord groaned to himself, as he always did when in meditative thought. "The whole kingdom has been talking it up since you left," he said.

"I've only been gone for half an hour. How bad is it?"

"Bad enough, I'd say. Every guardsman and noble butt-kisser in this throne room has been telling everyone that passes through the same tripe. 'Finn the Human has returned!' they say. 'Did you hear? Finn the Human has returned! Cut his way out of his prison cell like carving a cake!' I, for one, am not foolish enough nor am I juvenile enough to fall victim to such...  _romanticized_ ideas. Not until I see it with mine own eyes, as old and failing they may be."

 _He knows what he's saying._ Flame Princess felt her cheeks burn - she was exactly what Don John said she was: foolish and juvenile for believing such rumors.

She felt her stomach twist up further into something awful, and tasted bile in the back of her throat - she'd prayed to Grob, Glob, Grod and Gob that word hasn't spread throughout her kingdom. She prayed, and prayed, and  _prayed._ But things couldn't be more worse than she initially feared; everybody and their mother was talking about it. Thinking back, during her rushed return to the Fire Kingdom and amidst all the laughing and pointing coming from the derogatory flame people gawking at the nightie-clad princess, she swore she remembered hearing a sparse few talking excitedly about Ooo's mighty champion returning triumphant from a prison break where he was being kept, and that he made it all the way to the Candy Castle before collapsing from exhaustion at its drawbridge.

 _They couldn't be more wrong, the fools._ "Well," she thought aloud, "I don't suppose I can close off the Fire Kingdom and prevent everyone from leaving."

"No," solemnly agreed Don John. "Then you'd be too much like your father, and we wouldn't want that."

 _And what is THAT supposed to mean?_ she wanted to say if she hadn't counted to five like Cinnamon Bun taught her. But even so, the traitorous goat's ambiguity and mind games were beginning to grate on the short-tempered princess.

For as long as she could stand the silence right then and there, Flame Princess withheld voicing her thoughts. She was successful until a mighty terrible one ate its way out of her. "For once in your life DJ, be honest:" she sighed heavily, "do you have an  _inkling_ of how it feels to be one of the most powerful flame people of our generation, and being completely  _helpless_  to do anything to help your friend?"

John held his silence, thinking for a spell. His yellow lips worked in and out until finally he said, "More than you realize, Your Grace. But in case you were unaware,  _violence doesn't solve everything._ "

Flame Princess had no idea how to respond to that, nor did she particularly care to. It brought her thoughts back once again to that mangled thing in the Candy Castle's private ward. Just thinking about the human once named Finn made her sick. "I've gotta go," she muttered, drifting slowly down to the stone platform overlooking her throne.

But Don John never liked being ignored. "And what are you planning to do, Your Grace? What shall you do to the enemy that ruined your friend?  _Perhaps I can be of help!_ "

 _You liar,_ she hissed inside.  _You don't care about me._ She could hear the joy in his insolence, the fondness he had for her strength and only her strength. Seeing her explode, she realized, would bring him satisfaction, like that creature named Funn claimed it once did.  _Like everyone else in my life, except for Cinnamon Bun._ Thinking about how she once held the silly little boy-hero of Ooo in such astronomical regard...it sent an arrow or two through her heartstrings.  _He's meat and madness that's convinced he deserves pain...Oh Finn, what do I do? What did I_ do _to you by acting so thoughtlessly?_

_PB was so right..._

Don John noticed the fumble in her descent, the sudden trembling in her shoulders, and cackled. "Don't hide it, Flame Princess. You're angry at this, I know. It's in your blood! But tell me, what will the noble, mature, mighty and revered Flame Princess do to the madman that  _destroyed_ the last and finest of the Humans?"

Flame Princess looked back over her shoulder at Don John with a single, crimson eye, glowing and glaring like she were her father reborn. Molten lava dribbled down her fair cheek.

"I will destroy him," she swore, and continued walking.

She sensed Don John sneering behind her. "Then I wish you the best of luck, Your Grace. And may the Four save us if your petty revenge plunges us into war."

At that, the conversation was over. Flame Princess didn't talk to anyone else until later that evening, as she was tossing and turning in bed, when what she could do to help Finn finally dawned on her; it was a plan that wouldn't force him to appear in public eye, and may lend a huge hand in helping him get back into the swing of things.

 _I'll take him on an adventure._ And she had the perfect place in mind.

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Medical Ward**

**1:57 A.M.**

**Marceline**

The tasty tang of dried blood made her sick - Marceline had never exposed herself to the stuff, never drank a drop of it in her life. But with her hunter's nose, something as meager as the scabbed wounds on his little body were like being in a pool with too much chlorine, and it made her stomach turn.

It wasn't until well past midnight, where the only sound to be heard was the steady  _boop-boop_ of Finn's heart rate monitor, when Marceline dropped from her shadowed corner of the ward. She landed with the silence of a ghost, her feet never even touching the polished tiles, which gleamed underneath the moonlight that shone from the windows along the ceiling's border.

She wasn't sure if Finn noticed her or was ignoring her; she suspected the former, given that her choice of attire being an all-black tank and pair of jeans still shrouded her in shadows. Marceline drifted towards the spaced-out kid, unstrapping her ax bass that hung from her left shoulder and held it like she was about to play. " _Yo, Finn_ ," she called to him in a loud whisper.

Finn's icy little peepers swiveled in their sunken sockets, looking straight at her, almost like there was something far more interesting to be seen hidden behind her back. There was nothing, of course, aside from more empty beds. The eyes didn't bother Marceline as much as it did Bonnie and Dr. Ice Cream.  _Mostly because I'm desensitized by this stuff._ Still, her shriveled little heart twisted and lurched at the desolating sight of her good friend.

"Your Grace," Finn said, his voice dry from underuse.

Marceline floated to his bedside, mouth switched into a frown. "' _Your Grace'_?" Marceline snickered. Only  _she_  would find it humorous. "No one's called me  _that_  before. Never liked hearing it, though. Sounds too snooty and dry, know what I mean?"

"I can call you 'Miss', if that pleases Your Grace," he offered. She ran her fingers down the strings, strumming the bass once; even without an amp, its sound vibrated in the still air of the ward.

Her throat bobbed upon the hard shadows on her face. "'Marceline' is fine, little guy."

Finn swallowed hard, looking like he was about to piss himself. His voice shook. "If that is what you desire, I am at your service, Marceline." He nodded, as that was all he could do for a bow.

"You're not at my service, man," groaned Marceline. "You're not at anyone's service! Not anymore, your Master's all chained up, gagged and blindfolded down in the darkest dungeon Bonnibel could find. I saw it for myself, if you'd like to know." Marceline's eyes softened. "He can't hurt you anymore dude - between you and me, though," she leaned in and whispered into his remaining ear, " _I'd probably find a more fitting spot in the Upper Nightosphere, but don't tell Bonny I said that; might make me actually_ do that _, and then I'll have to see my dad._ " She pulled away, smiling at Finn, expectantly.

His mouth remained a thin line for what felt like a full minute before speaking. "Your secrets are...safe with me, Marceline. Funn can be fun, but he can also be trustworthy."

Marceline couldn't help herself, and cringed; she didn't even  _want_  to be reminded of what Finn had went through because of her, it pained her like a wooden stake through the chest.  _Just hold it together, Marcy. Remind him of the good times, and stay away from...from everything else?_

Why did this suck so much? Marceline  _never_  had to suffer compassion and heartache and guilt before she met Finn.  _At least not for a long time,_ she thought, remembering back on bleaker times when her world was grey and fire. And cold.

Not since becoming a vampire, not since breaking away from Bonnie all those years ago, did Marceline remember what it was like to care about yourself, as well as others.

Her chest ached even worse - too much to remember, too much pain at once. Marceline shook the memories from her skull and stamped out every emotion in her gut until only devilry remained. "Say Finn," she started, smirking like a imp, "remember our jam sessions we did every weekend?"

Finn looked straight at the moon gazing down from over her shoulder. "I remember everything." The dead look in his eyes implied nothing further.

Marceline regretted asking him that, but pressed on without a falter in her attitude. "Cool," she purred, nodding smoothly. "You're a pretty sweet beat-boxer, Finn. How's about you give me a beat?" She strummed her ax bass a quick two times.

Whether or not he was thinking or simply too afraid to answer, Marceline could not say for certain. For the longest time Finn just trembled instead of talking. Marceline began to fear she asked him the worst possible thing.  _I should have known. I'm not brutally demanding him to take me like a hound because that's the only world he knows now. This was all a mistake._

"Finn?" she asked, no fainter than a mumble. The boy persisted in his stargazing, breathing suddenly very haggard and broken. What was he thinking about!?

 _Grob this is going sour._ _Finn, guh, just act normal! Please!_ Marceline's old, emotionally-afraid instincts almost resurfaced, when she considered morphing into a demon, or simply backhanding him across the cheek.

When she felt tears prickling her eyes, it was time to throw in the towel at that point. "I'm out of here," she grumbled in a mixture of anger and grief.

But just as the Vampire Queen turned to float up to the skylight, she heard a sharp, sudden, " _Wait, Marceline!"_ and it sounded like the old Finn was back - Marceline froze in place, as did her unbeating heart.

Then she heard him make some familiar noise:  _"Pt-tch, puh-tch-kuh-tch, puh, tch..."_

Her head whipped around, to where Finn, staring up at the ceiling, with his pallid cheeks puffing in and out, beat boxed a very familiar tune.

Marceline recognized it immediately and joined in without lingering a second longer. She strummed her guitar and hovered back to his bedside, singing as she went:  _"La-da-da-da-da...I'm gonna bury you in the ground..."_

Her voice echoed hauntingly, beautifully, in the vastness of the medical ward. Just like before, Finn's beat-boxing faded, and her singing took a more personal turn, despite being a wholly different song from the one she started with - Marceline simply lost herself in the memory, finding herself in the canyon again, where the air was dry, and Marceline realized that those three weenies truly did love the Vampire Queen's friendship - but unlike last time, Marceline was able to finish, for she wasn't afraid to, and Finn's backing faded quick as she started singing.

But Marceline didn't think about  _that_ ; instead smiling a wolf's radiant grin after concluding. "That was pretty awesome."

Finn stared into the ceiling.

"I will suffer for this."

He sounded like he was about to burst into waterworks.

"Master never told me I was allowed to enjoy myself outside of entertaining...but I couldn't help myself." Then, for the first time in what felt like a million years, his eyes met with Marceline's.

 _It's funny,_  she thought later on, about how much impact a simple gesture could make.

"Marceline Abadeer," he said, "if you are truly the friend that other boy remembers, don't tell Master. Please...don't tell him." His dirty-ice eyes looked like twin pools shining in the moonlight.

 _I could argue and argue and argue that his "Master" is no longer a threat..._  she repressed the urge to do so, and instead gave herself pause to actually think before acting, as rare as such a thing was for her to do,  _...but that'll probably get us back to square one. Baby steps, Marcy. Baby steps._

Compassion came easily to Marceline these days, and her smile conveyed as such. "I promise. Master won't know a word about this."

Finn looked like he was just offered his own kingdom to rule. "Th-Thank you, Marceline," he breathed. "You are as pure and loyal as the other boy remembers, and I'm not saying that because I have to."

As bizarre and gut-wrenching as the situation was, Marceline gained an odd sense of happiness from the mad boy's words. "No problem, dude," she said, trying to come off as cool as possible while thinking,  _You should hate me for this._  Thankfully, the silvery moonlight shining overhead shrouded her eyes in shadow.

Marceline moved to lightly punch him in the shoulder. He showed no reaction to it. "Night, Finn."

When she was halfway at the skylight, making her departing ascent, she almost fell from the air when Finn cried out, "Wait!"

She turned and saw him looking back with pleading dead eyes. "Please, don't go," he whispered, yet she heard it clear as day. As before, Finn sounded like he was on the verge of crying. But it wasn't borne of fear, not this time, no, but of a different shade of emotion. "Please...I'm... I'm  _afraid of being alone again_."

Marceline smiled warmly at the little boy, though she doubted he saw anything apart from the white of her fangs. "Sure thing, Finn." She floated down to his bedside, remaining a silent presence that left him more content than talking ever would. It wasn't until the sun began to peak its head over the Cotton Candy Forest, when Finn was still fast asleep, that it dawned on Marceline about his particular choice of song from before.

 _It's in the title,_ she realized.  _'I'm Just Your Problem'._ Did he do that on purpose? Was Finn subconsciously mocking her for her failure in looking out for him, as crazy as that sounded?  _Or maybe I really am the one who's nuts._


	5. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnibel faces reality. Finn and Jake return home.

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom Castle**

**6:59 A.M.**

**Jake**

The sun was just peeking its head over the Cotton Candy Forest when Peebles came to his suite, dressed in her typical royal-pink gown. Princess was generous enough to let Jake stay the night in the castle, probably fully aware that he wouldn't leave his friend if given an option. It's time to bring Finn home, she told him as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. Finn would have stayed in the Candy Kingdom - not that it was spoken, but Jake knew PB wanted him to. But since Fire Kingdom already spilled the beans about his return, she suspected it was only a matter of time before word spread like wildfire and the Candy kingdom became flooded with those yearning to see the hero with their own eyes.

"We need to delay them as much as we can," she told Jake. "At least until I can think of a cover-up."

Jake didn't hesitate to answer. "Yeah, alright PB. Whatever you think is best." Truth be told, Jake had doubts about this whole plan. It wasn't even a plan, he dared to think; PB was just scared stiff for Finn's well-being, and Jake knew it'd only be a matter of time before the world finds out the truth.

And when it finally does...

It'd be foolish not to worry about the ramifications of Flame Princess's genuinely well-meant intentions.  _Poor kid,_ Jake thought, remembering how Peebes chewed the fire princess out yesterday, then brewed up a storm at dinner.

Jake never realized Peebles was actually raving in another language over supper, until he realized those harsh sounds she was muttering wasn't mere unintelligible grumbling.

The castle slept still as Princess and Jake crept to the Medical Ward with Peppermint Butler and two banana guards tailing them from behind. They froze upon entering to see Marceline floating at his bedside, strumming a low rumble on her bass. In all black she had the semblance of a macabre guardian angel.

 _Woah. Was she here all night?_ "Hey, Marce?" waved Jake.

The vampire looked up from their friend, eyes tired, glowing an eerie red in the room's dim light. "Oh, hey guys." She greeted them so casually that Jake assumed PB allowed her to stay the night with Finn.

But one look at the flush creeping up her pink neck told a completely different story. " _Marceline?_ " she breathed, surprised. "What are you  _doing_  here?"

Marceline floated towards them, face placid and lacking any conviction like always. "Just keeping the squirt company," she said, speaking low like he were a just a newborn babe. "I'll catch you guys later." Marceline dashed out of the room in the blink of an eye, so fast that Peebles didn't even have time to process what she just said. The princess made an annoyed grunt.

"What was that all about?" asked Jake.

"Shall I send for her, Princess?"

"No," she sighed. "No, Peps. Just leave her. She has her own way of coping with these things. Pestering her will just hurt both of you."

 _Marceline? Coping?_ Jake would have laughed out loud if he wasn't looking at Finn, so deceptive under the guise of sleep. But honestly, just the  _implication_  that something was eating big, badass Marceline came off as utterly ridiculous. Sure, she was rattled by Finn's current state, and Jake would never doubt for a second that she cared about his plight (as her rampant search for the boy would testify). But to imagine someone as seasoned in the field of death and despair as the Vampire Queen having to "cope" with anything emotionally heavy was quite a load to swallow.

P-Bubs paced quickly towards Finn's bedside with the others following in close suit. Her eyes lingered upon his restful face for one, heart-pounding instant before she took the IV tube in between her thumb and index finger, and tenderly removed the apparatus from his arm.

"Finn?" she said, gentle as a spring breeze. She nudged his knobbly shoulder. "Finn, we're taking you home."

The boy's eyes sprang open at once and swiveled to meet PB's, then Jake's, then back to her's - wide and rapidly wary.  _Yeesh,_ though Jake,  _you'd think we were gonna throw him in the dungeon._ Jake mentally scolded himself for thinking to tastelessly just then.

But it was hard not to; everything Finn did had a some sort of careful thought behind it, like one wrong misstep would earn him a beating.

Jake swallowed the lump threatening to form in his throat, and thought to himself,  _No more, bro. Not any more,_ and purged any further thinking from his head. He was aware, fully, that ignoring it wouldn't make it go away.

But Jake didn't know what he'd do if he thought about what his bro endured for too long.

That made it easier to ignore how Finn even made licking his chapped lips a discreet effort. "Did Queen Marceline enjoy her stay?" he asked, tone kept low and gravelly.

The princess said nothing, did nothing, except fold her hands over her poofy pink gown. "I'm sure she did, bro," Jake assured him when the silence lingered for too long. He smiled at his brother. "Marceline knows you're a pretty fun guy to be around."

"Yes," he quietly agreed, gazing straight ahead - to the ceiling. "I am Funn, and nothing but."

Jake mentally cuffed himself for that one, though from behind little Peppermint Butler clotted the back of his head for good measure.  _Glob darn it! Think before you speak, Jake!_ But Jake knew he wouldn't remember that for five minutes; he was likely to forget, like always.

"We're going to get you dressed now," Princess told him. That was Peps's cue to lift her a set of folded clothes that had been sitting underneath the bed: blue shorts, t-shirt... his white hat. "Are you okay with this, Finn?"

The way Finn was staring at his old hat all bug-eyed reminded Jake of how he once regarded the open ocean.  _Scared enough to have a fuggly fear-feasting spirit living in his gut._ But that was ages ago; the Fear Feaster was but a humorous memory, and his belly button forever cursed with a grisly 'X'-shaped pair of scars crossing over it, and sewn closed with a rough stitching job.

"Finn?" said the princess.

The boy's eyes shot up from the pair of shorts Peppermint Butler was unfolding. "If it pleases, Your Grace," he said, quickly followed by, "sorry, Your Grace. Apologies,  _profuse_  apologies."

"What's wrong, Finn?" Bubblegum asked, her voice light and concerned.

Her hero answered, "Gah!" he groaned, in pain with wrenched eyes. "Miss Marceline told me not to call her that, and I'd forgotten that you never wanted to be called this either, and I didn't realize it!" His eyes snapped over to her's, fear-soaked. "I'm incredibly sorry Miss Bubblegum, I hope that Master's Funn did not ruin  _your's_."

Jake saw a tremble dance across PB's lips, but said nothing. He felt her pain all-too-well, and didn't even think when he reached up and clenched her hand in his paw.

 _I know,_  he squeezed. _This is painful to watch._ She clutched in agreement, willing her face into stone. But Jake kept a pleasant demeanor, and so did Bubblegum, as they worked to slide a pair of shorts over those pallid twigs Finn had for legs. When they lifted his one arm up and fit it through the short sleeve, the boy's face was as placid as ever, lifeless, but still they heard him make a grunt. Jake found why: the baseball-sized bruise under his arm that stretched when they lifted it. When Jake apologized, Finn said nothing.

"Now for the hat," Peebles said after covering the boy's mauled torso.

As Jake watched Peps hand her Finn's iconic piece of headware, he suddenly found himself filled with a bit of disgust.  _What are we doing?_ he asked himself. To him, it looked like they were trying so hard to pretend everything is back to normal, and that this shivering, twitchy creature they found squatting in his own shit in the belly of an unsuspecting keep is still the same kid that went missing six months ago.  _Am I a bad dog for thinking like this? Can we really help Finn make a full recovery, or am I just kidding myself?_ To Jake, he looks like a complete stranger wearing the famous attire of his young fostered brother.  _Even his eyes are wrong,_ Jake thought as Princess fit the opening around his face, his two chips of dirty ice staring out at nothing all the while.

 _He looks like a creepy china doll,_ Jake thought before cursing himself for thinking such a thing.  _We're gonna help you get better, Finn. I have to believe that we will._ For his own sake, Jake had to. He shuddered to think what he would do if his brother was truly gone...

PB stepped back, smiling with only her mouth. "Are you ready to go home?" she asked.

"W- _Where_?" Finn sounded as though the word was completely foreign to him.

For all Jake knew, it may very well be. "The tree house, bro," he said. "BMO and NEPTR are waiting for you." Not a shudder was to be found in Finn's vacant expression.

He held his silence for as long as the ride to the castle courtyard, where the banana guards pushed his bed to a small litter stylized to look like something the Third Earl of Lemongrab would ride. The thing was a gaudy yellow, with bronze lemons topping the four corners and the lemonhead sigil of the earldom emblazoned on either of the white curtains.

Given the way Finn was ogling it from atop his bed, one would think he saw a ghost and half-expected the litter to spring to life and bite him. It did no such thing as a guard scooped the bony little thing in his arms and carried the boy into the litter. "Here you go," he said dumbly, nestling the boy on the pale yellow cushion and drawing the curtain closed. The last Jake saw of the boy who had once been his brother, he was looking about the litter's interior for some nonexistent foe ready to pounce out.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, turning toward the princess.

"No one will suspect Finn is riding with the Third Earl of Lemongrab," Peebles told the gang. She gestured to the vapid-eyed banana guards. "You two will carry him all the way to the tree house. Make sure he settles in, and then destroy the litter before returning here."

"What'll you do, Peebs?" asked Jake.

The puffed sleeves on her shoulders sagged a bit when she let out a sigh. "I will stay here," she explained, "and tell everyone that we've yet to find Finn."

"But the Fire Kingdom..."

"Just heard a rumor." Before Jake could object, PB had whirled around and made for the Candy Castle with Peppermint Butler at her heels.

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom Castle Lab**

**11:20 A.M.**

**Bonnibel**

"I'm sorry, LSP, I dunno what you've heard! Whatever it was, it's..." It was easy for her to sound so dejected as she said, "...it's best left forgotten - the raid on Moonlight Keep was yet another failed operation. We didn't find Finn."

" _Shah,_ okay _._ You say that every lumpin' time, PB!" The purple lump of sass placed her hands on her lower bumps, all pompous-like. "Well,  _I_ was talking to Melissa. And  _she_  said, that her uncle said, that his drinking buddy from the  _Fire_  Kingdom heard a flambiter-or-whatever tell the entire court that you've found Finn.  _Sooo_  fess up, PB!" _  
_

Bonnibel scoffed - on its own merit, the entire scenario sounded truly far-fetched. "That's a fun little story, LSP. I wish it were true."

"It's not a lumpin' story! It's  _reaaaaaal,_ " whined the princess.

Bonnibel surprised herself by not yet resorting to the Banana Guards, considering this was probably the fiftieth time she and Lumpy Space Princess waltzed this dance. Perhaps she'd grown used to the routine; it filled her with a much-needed sense of normalcy, especially in light of recent events (events that she wouldn't dare speak of truthfully with the gossip-starved lumpy person). It was always in a different place though, which made the game a little exciting. On some days they'd be walking down the castle corridor together, or LSP would break into her room in the dead of night, demanding every time for a status report on the missing human.

 _It's almost sweet,_ she thought.  _In a creepy, stalkerish sort of way._

Truth be told, Bonnie couldn't discern why LSP cared  _so much_  for Finn's well-being - that she had to check in, every time, after each fruitless sack and raid. Nor could she figure out what drove Lumpy Space Princess to completely ignore the exponentially exhausted, frustrated Princess Bubblegum - who worsened in tandem with her failures.

Perhaps she did love Finn - or she was just that dense. Maybe she just didn't care about Bonnibel's feelings, who could do nothing to her no matter how annoyed she appeared.

But today, she was in  _no mood_  for this grating little game, made worse by the locale: her lab, her private sanctuary. After throwing herself into total scientist-mode, with a white lab coat, glasses, ponytail and all, it allowed Bonnie to ignore a splitting headache while thinking hard about what to do with her broken friend, in addition to quelling the "rumors" spread by that irresponsible Flame Princess. That is until LSP barged in through the shutter window, filling her dark lab with a draft and pale sunlight.

"PB?" Bonnibel was suddenly yanked from her memory at the sound, with Lumpy Space Princess hovering right above her, her three little bottom lumps waggling in her field of vision. "PB," she droned. "PB... PB... PB, it's real. It's real, PB. It's totes real."

She rose a single hand from her psychology textbook, and with a single shove, evicted LSP from her personal bubble. "Please leave, Lumpy Space Princess. When we find Finn, you'll be the first to know. That's a Royal Promise."

LSP descended just enough to be at eye-level with her friend/rival. She had a credulous glint in her eye, maybe some sympathy here and there brought on by the tiredness in Bonnibel's tone but not much else. "And you Royal Promise?" she wanted to clarify.

Bonnie removed her large blue-lensed glasses, and rubbed them down with the hem of her lab coat. After leaving the question in the air through the whole process, she finally answered after placing them back upon her nose.

"Yes. I promise."

LSP smiled a little chubby smile. "Alright, sweet.  _Later girrrrrl!_ " She departed through the window she pried open herself, hastily closing the broken wooden shutters on her way out without much success - one fell off its hinge and clattered noisily to the floor.

Bonnie bid her farewell with a dainty little tilt of her wrist.  _Princess in name only,_ she mused. But her thoughts quickly took a dark turn as she realized she was alone once again.

_Alone... Always alone._

Bubblegum rose a hand to her breast, feeling underneath her dress and lab coat for the old amulet that was once stolen by a girl named Shoko, and then returned centuries later by a boy named Finn.  _I was so trusting then, so young. 'Royal Promise.' Tch. A saying that no longer holds any meaning, now that I've got this in my possession._ The amulet suddenly felt very heavy around her neck, making Bonnie slouch in her stool and hover above the bulky tome on extensive psychological deportment.

She stared at it for a long time, never reopening it and instead staring at the old pre-war cover of a human boy caressed in the arms of his loving mother.  _Will books save you, Finn?_ wondered Bonnibel.

Her slim, pink throat bobbed with a lump she'd been struggling to swallow for the past twenty-four hours.

"Will they?" croaked the princess - her voice rang hollowly in her vast, empty laboratory. Bonnie's face abruptly dropped, elbows hitting the table, and her fingers raked through her gooey pink hair.  _Will my extensive knowledge on the properties of biomass, my equations on creating candy life, find a way to bring you back, my Hero?_

"Knock-knock."

Bonnibel whirled to find Marceline in the corner of the room, hovering, and drenched in shadows. "How long were you standing there?" she softly snapped.

"Long enough." Marceline floated towards her friend. "You know we can't keep this a secret forever, thanks to Princess Temperature-Tantrum."

"We will." The princess looked away, "For as long as we need to, we will," eyes shut within the darkness - not that she could hide from Marceline, even in such obscurity.

"Sooner or later, the world's gonna find out that Finn the Human's returned to slay monsters and rescue damsels in distress." The tone in her voice emphasized a bitter sarcasm that was like poison in Bonnie's ears.  _I don't want to hear this._ And yet some part of her did, as she allowed Marceline to continue. "One way or another, it'll happen. Every princess from here to the Bad Lands and back will want to see their champion."

 _Is she mad, or just plain stupid!?_ Bonnie tore the glasses from her face and sent them skidding across the table. "But Finn's not back!" she argued. "Not our Finn, anyway. We just need some time..."  _More time to dress him up like a little girl's doll?_ a voice in her sneered.

"This isn't something that'll happen overnight, Bonnibel. You know that."

"No... maybe,  _maybe_  there is!" The princess began to flip madly through her textbook - she didn't even know what she was looking for. "If I can pinpoint the correct form of treatment...!"

"Bon..."

"...Then the old Finn will be back with us in no time!"

" _Bonnie!"_ Marceline's palms slammed thunderously against the desk, startling the princess and sending a beaker or two crashing to the floor. "That isn't going to fly, Bon! Whether or not we can  _really_  help him, peeps'll find out! And I  _trust_  that you know what you're doing, I do. But would you rather have  _everyone_  finding out through some huge, embarrassing accident like in the movies, or with bells and whistles and something to celebrate?" Marceline awaited a response, smiling hopefully with her hands held out to her friend, open-palmed.  _Tick-tock-tick,_ went the only sound in the room.

If only Marceline realized: this had nothing to do with Flame Princess's mistake.

She only did, after Bonnibel Bubblegum erupted into long, mournful wail.

When she buried her face in her hands, when she bit down on her coat's collar, when she kept her mouth shut to the best of her ability - anything to stifle her loud sobbing from being heard throughout the castle. Half a heartbeat later, Bonnie felt a chill settle on her shoulder, a hand.  _Marceline._ She sniffled twice, raising her hand across her breast to caress the vampire's fingers. "I...have no idea...  _wh-what to do_ ," she confessed. "I'm in  _way_ over my head here..."

Marceline lifted herself atop the table, sitting on it and sliding her other hand towards Bonnie's. "And who are you and what have you done with the PB I've known for a lifetime? Come on, buck up! I'm sure a nerd like you will think of  _something_. You're the smartest person in the world!"

Bonnibel shot up, glaring at Marceline with puffy red eyes. "You have  _no idea_ what it's like... what it's like to be  _this smart..._ and not being able to do  _a thing_  to help your friend! This just  _isn't_  something that smarts can solve!" She found herself remembering a time when science didn't save the day, but basic psychology in which Princess Bubblegum took a punch to the face just to quench Finn's lust for revenge against his horrible father. It worked, thankfully. And without Bonnibel losing an arm (intentionally) to boot.

 _But that was child's play compared to this!_  she thought bitterly, recalling a memory that was once just another day for her.  _A high school psych class more like..._

Seconds passed as Bonnie rubbed her eyes, thankful in silence after her crying had ceased after venting like that. "There, there," she heard Marceline say.

When the princess looked up from her dampened pink palms, she found her spectacles dancing in the air, hovering above the Vampire Queen's open hand. She took them, smiling in thanks. "So I'm completely open to suggestions." Bonnibel put her glasses on. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Alright, hear me out." Marceline levitated above the desk, crisscrossed with her hands splayed out. "The biggest party Ooo has ever seen."

Bonnibel quirked a brow at her friend's logic. "That sounds like a bad joke."

"No no, hear me out, this could really be something huge! Just imagine it: everyone Finn knows, everyone who loves him, gathered from every kingdom under the sun, giving him their best wishes, to congratulate him for being such a brave and dauntless hero. People love that junk!"

"But Finn isn't himself, Marceline. Anyone in the world could see that - and they would! And what will they say when they see his injuries? His smile, his missing ear?  _His eyes_?" She got a chill at just the thought of it, of all of her fellow princesses eager to re-welcome Finn into their lives and service and instead beholding that quivering wretch named Funn.  _It would be a disaster,_ she shuddered to think. Bonnibel shook her head. "We can't risk it. We have to bide our time."

But unfortunately, Marceline knew Bonnie more than the princess knew herself. "You're afraid of how everyone will react to him," she stated.

The princess saw no reason to deny the obvious. "Of course I am," she said. "He's so...he's so  _fragile,_ Marceline. What if something happens that'll ensure he  _never_ recovers?"

Marceline disagreed, still grinning like a cheshire cat that knew something she didn't. "Have a little faith, Your Highness. No one's gonna peg him with stones. The worst that'll happen is LSP going 'ew, ew, lumpin' gross!' at his teeth." Secretly Bonnibel feared that that'll be enough to set Finn over the edge. But somehow she knew Marceline figured that as well. "Being surrounded by people that love him will be a good thing," she explained. "I was with him, Bon. Last night we  _sang_ , and he told me that he enjoyed it. Seems like proof enough that the Finn we know is still in there. And hanging with people he knows will only help his recovery, moreso than being locked away and dressed up in his old clothes."

That certainly changed some things running through Bonnibel's mind. Could her friend be right? Would this help Finn?  _Am I willing to gamble everything, Finn's recovery, the love and admiration of his peers, to kill two birds with one stone?_

The uncertainty was probably the worst part of all this.

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands**

**7:45 A.M.**

**Jake**

Waking from the Candy Kingdom to the Tree Fort never sucked so bad.

Normally Jake would be back home in less than a minute, stretching his way across the grassy plains which covered Central Ooo.

Marching through the kingdom wasn't the hard part that everybody expected, no, it was actually pretty easy; the litter did a fine job at disguising its true purpose, and few candy citizens questioned their little retinue when it was  _clearly_  the Third Earl of Lemongrab's business. And those who did got a cold shoulder from one of the Banana Guards carrying Finn: "It's nothing! Don't talk to us!"

No, the hard part was this Glob-danged  _heat._

It was unusually balmy today, the humidity was up the butt, making Jake actually start panting like his ancestors would. This disgusting feeling in the air left him sweating buckets neath his thin coat of hair. It was so bad he even lashed out at a little mosquito-guy just looking for a bit of breakfast.

Even the Banana Guards, known for being as brawny as they are dumb, couldn't resist the sun's assault for long, and their steady pace fell into an unbearably painful crawl. Jake would rip the litter from their hands and carry Finn home himself, had Bubblegum not given him  _very_ specific instructions last night.

So, he had to deal with the slow guards, slowly carrying the litter out of the city, and continue to do so after they've become even  _slower_  once they started sweating buckets of chocolate milk. No further indication, no noise like Jake - which made him feel a little indignant. Just looking at the heat distorting the landscape of green ahead was enough to make him lapse into a heavy panting.

Finn, on the other hand, was quite comfortable. After he realized his Master wasn't going to leap out and attack him, he plunged into a slumber just as they exited the Candy Kingdom.

 _Wonder what he's dreaming about,_ thought Jake, followed by,  _Wait, never mind. I really don't wanna know._

The sight of his brother so peaceful, so safe, so alive and so  _here_ , it flickered something to life inside of Jake, deep within his heart-guts. He latched himself upon it greedily, coveting it, where it blossomed quickly into a feeling that made him lighter than he'd been in months. He didn't dwell upon the reality of it all, just as he didn't think about what Finn might be dreaming about.

Jake simply did what he'd always done - he felt.

When they home, the sun was high in the sky and hotter than the Nightosphere. Jake looked pulled the curtain aside and peered into the litter - Finn was wide awake, probably jostled by the thing's ungracious landing after its carriers heard, "Alright gang, this is it!" and their hands all opened at once. His white hat was off, lying on the floor - neglected with his thin hair falling around his shoulders like dried straw.

But Jake didn't care - it was just a piece of clothing.

"Buh, buh-da-dah! Welcome home, buddy!" He stepped aside, presenting their home to his brother. Jake waited a second, and then two, followed by a third, watching his brother's face for a smile, or a flicker of recognition - nothing big, but...  _something_.

Something more than Finn watching back with those dead eyes, and then at the tree house in the background.

Jake waggled his arms above his head. "Come on out, buddy. It'll be a party!"

Finn blinked. "A...party?" Like he was a foreigner who'd never heard of parties.

But Jake nodded with all the enthusiasm he could muster. "Heck yeah, a party! You love parties!"

The boy's head lolled to the side, away from Jake. "I don't deserve to love anything. I live to entertain, and I am fine with that."

Jake shook his head. "Good  _Grob,_  you're depressing. Come on!" An elongated arm wrapped around Finn's shoulders, and pulled him to the litter's edge. "And now for the first step of the rest of your life, bro!"

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands**

**7:50 A.M.**

**Funn**

Funn looked at Jake, and then his own pallid feet, the left with three toes and the right with four; both had the big toe severed in his captivity, to ensure that he'd never walk properly again. The first time, he recalled, was actually after his faux escape, where they fired an arrow through his shoulder after a water elemental tricked him into thinking they were busting out together. Fool that he was, so desperate as to not realize it was a sadistic little game put on by Master, and its main purpose was to crush that other boy's spirit. It was quite effective in that regard, though not nearly as much as the second.

In that period when he was learning the art of entertaining, the other boy refused to obey and tried to fight. He didn't get very far, and master's right hand man ensured that he never would again. He remembered why the other foot lost it, and that was for screaming too loudly when a customer wanted him to be quiet.  _I'm Funn and nothing but. That is all I will ever be._

Jake groaned. "Come on, Finn! I ain't gonna carry you! You're a big boy now. Just put one foot in front of the other..."

"I can't," said Funn, in all honesty.  _And please stop calling me that. I'm too ugly and too useless to be associated with one who was once so loved and respected._

But Funn could see in Jake's eye that he refused to believe his brother was no more - after yesterday, he was very familiar with those fake, pitiful eyes. "Here," he said, tenderly, "let me help you." He took Funn's hands in his own and pulled the boy to his feet. " _Up_  ya go!"

What happened next was probably the most rewarding experience Funn could ever recall, right up there with the sick joy he got from successfully pleasing one of Master's friends and being rewarded with a hearty meal. But the experience was so much more minor and petty in comparison to pleasing Master that most wouldn't have regarded it with so much as a passing thought. And yet, Funn did, for in the first time in six months, he felt grass beneath his feet. So many sensations burst through his thin, wrinkled soles:

_Plush._

_Fresh._

_Ticklish._

_Clean._

But Funn could barely stand, let alone walk. And when Jake let go he fell immediately, collapsing face-first into the green, and was more than happy that he did. "Woah! Finn, you okay?" The dog was on his knees immediately.  _How long has it been since I was privileged with the presence of true nature?_ he thought, inhaling the dirt and green grass deeply.  _I think I was called something else last time I did..._ _  
_

Jake nudged his shoulder. "Bro? Are you alright?" Funn pushed himself up upon steel-stiff arms, to meet the other boy's brother's eyes, smiling his broken smile. "Apologies, Sir," he said, still grinning, uncaring of his own ugliness. "The grass just smells really good here."

A beat passed where Jake fixed him with a perplexing stare. He allowed himself a chuckle. "Yeah," he said, smiling a genuine smile. "I guess it does, ya weirdo."


	6. Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funn finds himself in a place that is familiar and one that is not. Jake tries to break through to his brother.

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands: Tree Fort**

**7:51 A.M.**

**Funn**

A long, crooked walking stick - fashioned from a branch of the Tree Fort - was given to the broken boy. Mister Jake was kind enough to stretch up and yank it off. Funn remembered, a lifetime ago, when the other boy loved this dog with all his mighty little heart. He'd made himself forget, forget the good times that will never be again - it hurt him to remember this, those, and what they meant for the boy he no longer was. Not thinking about that boy's older brother was easy, once he accepted he would never come to save what was left of him.

But being handed that stick... the warm, ever-loving eyes of Jake the Dog...

Did he not see what stood before him? Did he really think Finn the Human was still in there? Or did he simply not care?

A beat later a howl tore through Funn's mind:  _Stop it, Funn! STOP! He isn't real, none of this is real - it's all a trick!_

He didn't know what to believe, and just thoughtlessly took it with a muttered, "Thanks, sir."

Upon hobbling through its simple, homey threshold, every barrier and instinct Funn developed over the course of his reconditioning was battered and tried against the storm of nostalgia that sent him crumpling to one knee.

"Finn!" Jake cried, dashing under the boy to support his arm-stump.

 _I remember, but I shouldn't. That life is gone._ It all made him drunk in the senses, the smell of the place - that strong, archaic odor of century-old wood and warm welcomes, good food, dog stank, and assurances of a fun that will never end that, until recently, upheld such vows. The treasury was virtually depleted, with only a few piles of gold and gemstones spread throughout the spacious entrance hall (likely spent on resources trying to find the old boy), but the wealth that remained was still worthy of pride. Funn felt nothing but nostalgia, longing. It made him tight in the chest, and he hated that.

 _I can't remember,_ his scarred mind screamed. His heart throbbed in protested,  _You must!_  Funn felt fear - what would Master do to him? What will he do when he discovered that Funn remembered? What will - ?

"We'd better get you upstairs and on the couch," Jake said.

Funn gasped quietly, shaking. "The...couch?" He remembered that old thing all-too-well, with its depression made by his own butt and that ripe smell it carried into their home from the dump they found it in.  _And where the old boy played BMO, yes._ Funn looked down at his one hand, only three fingers waggling; he clenched them into a fist and pushed himself to his feet.

Jake seemed incredibly impressed with this. "That's right, buddy. Baby steps. C'mon, let's get some grub."

 _I remember, the boy, I mean, he remembers how Jake the Dog was a... an acceptable cook,_ thought Funn.  _But the usual grey slop I'm served will unveil this whole charade._ A sudden thought crossed his mind; a horrible thought, but only for half a second:  _There's a chance that this is all real,_ he dared to think.  _That this is the real Jake, the real Tree Fort, the real Marceline Abadeer I sang with the night prior and the real Flame Queen I drove into a sob with my appearance._

There was only one logical explanation for all this:  _What if Master allowed his palace to be sacked? As a test for my loyalty?_ It certainly made more sense - was more realistic - than the other boy's friends coming to his rescue.

All the while, Funn's legs were on autopilot as they brought him limping up behind Jake, across the treasury and towards the ladder.

 _Master is smart. He could have had a small garrison tail us all the way from the Candy Kingdom and they'd be waiting outside the Tree Fort right now, ready to slice my throat should I go up this ladder._ Funn's brain worked a plan as Jake stretched his body to the upper level.  _I could turn tail and run,_ he thought.  _Brain this doggy impostor with my walking stick, yes._ _Let Master's Cretins see that I wasn't intentionally betraying them. They may let me keep a fingernail or two if I do that..._

His fingers wrapped tightly around the ladder's wooden step.

 _If I go ahead I'm dead..._ One foot planted on the next rung.  _If I go back, I'm loyal to Master and all is well..._ The other foot; his hand swung up and gripped the next step before falling back.  _If I look back I am safe, if I go ahead I'm dead. Is that even the real Jake? Or a double? Is Master as cruel as I think he is? YES! Yes, Funn, you fool! Of course he is! He butchered you like a piggy so you'd never doubt him again!_ The common sense that hollered in his head, rattled his brain, was almost enough to make him lose balance.

Another step, and then another; arm swing.

 _If I go back, I am safe and loyal. Loyalty is good, and Funn will please Master greatly. He is as generous as he is cruel, I must remember._ Funn dropped and entire step.

"Jake?" came a little robotic voice. "Is Finn home? Where is he?" That voice...

_BMO with the heart of gold. No! I mustn't remember. I'm Funn. I'm Funn and nothing but. Funn doesn't know BMO. If I go ahead I am dead..._

_Probably._

"He's down below," he heard Jake say, sounding like he was unwrapping something to cook, meat probably.

_Probably._

"Yo Finn! You need any help!?"

_If I go ahead I may be dead..._

Funn held himself there, halfway up the ladder without so much as twitching a muscle. Should he answer? Should he slip out? Should he just let go of the ladder and let the floor below do the rest of the work? So many options, but the real question was if he could differentiate one master from the other. Both parties wanted Funn to do something, and that in turn would be pleasing to them.

 _Master may kill me if I go ahead,_  he tricked himself into thinking - Master was not so cruel as to end him quickly, after all, but something in Funn convinced him that would be the likely endpoint, should he proceed into the Tree Fort, and reunite with the old boy's family. _He may flay me if I go back..._

"Finn?" came BMO. Funn felt Jake's outstretched arms grab him by the sides and hoist him up. He gave no struggle, not that he could if he wanted to.

A snap decision; a spur of the moment; a flicker, possibly, of that old boy's slapdash train of thought:

_...Let him. I don't want to hurt anymore._

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands: Tree Fort**

**6:00 P.M.**

**Jake**

As Jake stretched three sets of plates and silverware to the table, his gaze flickered constantly across the room to watch Finn. He was still at the sofa, hadn't moved an inch since they'd gotten home. BMO had settled on the coffee table in front of him, much the same. Although Finn politely declined playing video games, BMO affirmed that he "does not want to leave Finn ever again forever." Jake was positive their little robot friend didn't notice how different he was - and even more so that he wouldn't care otherwise. BMO was just that innocent.

And yet, seeing his brother back where he belongs, walking stick across his lap, it brought a smile to Jake's face.  _This could work,_ he thought heart rising.  _I had my doubts but seeing this now... I'm positive we'll have the old Finn back in no time._

"How are you, Finn?" asked the little robot - he did so every hour, on the dot.

Finn shifted in his seat. "Comfortable," he said after a spell, quick and quiet and no different from the last nine times he was asked.

BMO tossed his controller across the small gap and watched it land on the cushion beside Finn; his eyes never left the robot's screen. "Do you want to play video games?" he asked.

He listened intently to the awkward silence that followed BMO's question as he took the meatloaf out of the oven.  _Finn's favorite dish,_ Jake thought, brushing sauce over its bark-brown crust. Just the rich herbs and spices he put into the meatloaf was enough to make his stomach growl, and truth be told, he was never a fan of the dish (as he only ever made it when Finn had a craving).

It took several seconds for Finn to answer; Jake almost thought the boy was too afraid to answer, but when he did, just hearing his voice made the old dog smile.

"Even before he lost his old self, Finn couldn't play video games with one hand."

Jake's smile dropped into a grimace - and it sunk further as BMO innocently pointed out, "But you are Finn!" When he didn't reply, BMO continued without a falter in his chipper little attitude. "This is a new game I developed, just for you, Finn. Anybody can play it with just one hand! Would you like to try it out after dinner?"

The silence that followed was filled with BMO whimpering - he was doing that "eye trick" Jake hated. He felt all the air leave his lungs, exchanged for relief, when Finn solemnly replied, "Alright BMO, I will."

"Ya-hoo!" he cried, aloof to the hesitance clear in his tone.

Jake called out, "Alright kids, soup's on!" as he set the meatloaf on the table.

"Double ya-hoo! I love Jake's cooking!" BMO scuttled to the table and sat down moments before Finn slowly pried himself from his seat, pushing himself up upon his walking stick with hardly a grunt of effort.

Jake's sensitive ears picked up on Finn inhaling deeper as he entered the kitchen. "Smell good?" he asked, tail wagging.

Finn's eyes flitted about the table, searching, his grey eyes expressing little else. Jake's little tail slowed to a stop behind him, though he didn't allow his smile to wane as well.  _Come on, bro - this is your fave! You couldn't have lost a stomach too!_

"Your cooking skills are unparalleled, Jake... um, Mister Jake." It sounded nothing like the old Finn - but Jake couldn't deny that a day ago, Finn probably wouldn't say that much. Nor with the corner of his mouth risen slightly.

It faded a second after appearing, but Jake thought to himself anyway,  _We'll work with that,_ giddy nonetheless over hearing his brother speak with more emotion than he did this morning. He just sounded so chill! Better than sounding as if the world was waiting to explode; it made Jake's heart guts all squishy.

"Alright," he said, turning the knob of the gas stove. "Potatoes will be ready in a minute - just gotta drop some buttah in this bad boy."

"Yay!" cried BMO and Neptr (who was currently playing Card Wars on the floor with Shelby), despite their lack of stomachs.

Speaking of Neptr, Jake saw the twentieth pie that evening sail past his ear and out the window. Jake snuffed the air:  _Huh. Peach cobbler._ "It ain't funny, Nep," Jake called back for the twentieth time that evening. "No one's laughing."

"Yes it is! Ha! Ha! Ha!" His silly robotic laughter filled the air for the twentieth time that evening.

Although Jake knew Neptr was only trying to make his creator laugh, he silently questioned why the pie-throwing robot didn't get the M.O. the first nineteen times that Finn isn't quite himself. Jake was positive that BMO knows Finn needs their help, and was only acting like everything is normal as his own method of curing the boy (after, of course, the little gaming system awkwardly clung to Finn's leg when Jake brought him up, sobbing pixelated tears for about an hour). Jake still got chills remembering how BMO swore he'd kill whoever stole Finn every night during his disappearance. He wondered if the little robot still wanted to do that.

After he gave the potatoes a stir and brought the entire pot to the table, it was time for supper.

Jake sat across from Finn, with BMO between either of them at the end, like always. He was given a plate too, as this was his own way of feeling like an actual person. Jake felt it best never to ponder that for too long.

"Meatloaf, Finn!" said Jake, taking the boy's plate to serve him a helping. "Your fave!"

He said nothing until Jake settled down a plate of meatloaf cut into a thick slice beside a mound of buttered mashed potatoes. "Thank you, Mister," was all he got.

Jake frowned. "You know, you don't need to call me 'Mister', Finn. I'm your bro, bro. Not your 'Mister'." He forced a chuckle. "So, y'know, stop callin' me Mister."

"Then stop calling me Finn."

The serving fork almost slipped through his fingers. Jake mouthed a silent, uneasy ' _O-kay'_ and served himself.

There was no more talking, no lighthearted jokes from BMO, nor snide remarks from Shelby. Just silence. The only sound at the table was Jake's own fork scraping against his plate.

When he looked up, he saw Finn playing with his food, looking at it like a toddler would regard broccoli. "You don't like it?" asked Jake, holding his tongue just in time to prevent 'Finn' from coming out.

"I don't deserve a meal like this," he quickly said; his awkward three-fingered hand fumbled with the silverware after saying that, trying to reaffirm his grasp but it just ended up falling in his mashed potatoes.

Jake, always loathe of his wild train of thought, suddenly got a stupid idea for a stupid joke, and he spoke without actually thinking. "Master wants you to eat, Finn," he said, chuckling for only half a second before he realized what he said.  _I'm going to hurt myself now._

Finn, the poor kid, looked up from his plate with wide, icy eyes like a deer in the headlights. "He...does?"

"Uh..."

BMO smacked himself in the screen while Neptr and Shelby looked up from their game with dumbfounded looks.  _Oh, the ball did I just say?!_

Jake was about to take it back, explain it was just an ill-timed joke, but Finn waited for none after hearing the mention of his vile Master. Just as he was trained like a dog, he asked no questions and did as he was told without hesitation. And before long, the entire plate was near-squeaky clean and Finn was even discreetly licking his three fingers clean of sauce and potatoes.

"Did... Did you taste it?" Jake posed.

"Yes, thank you," Finn muttered between licks.

BMO never looked away from Finn, his eyes comically large - he had a better memory than Jake, after all, and even he couldn't recall a time where Finn scarfed down meatloaf so quickly. "Was it good?" he asked.

Finn looked up from his hunched position over the plate, nodding wordlessly to the robot with a gold film on his lips and chin. He continued bobbing his head as his eyes flickered over to Jake, and then back to his plate without a word.

To his whitened dish he muttered a quick and quiet, "It was so delicious, thank you... Jake."

 _Well, at least he liked his food._ Jake smiled a little, and even tittered a bit.  _My brother's not a goner yet._

"Anytime, brother."

After washing the dishes and setting them on the dish rack, Jake took a seat beside Finn on the couch. The boy was just blankly staring at BMO as the robot played 'Good Boy' with himself. "Whatcha doin', Finn?" Jake asked.

A beat passed before hearing a trembled reply. "What do you want me to do?" his baby brother replied.

Suddenly the vigor Jake felt moments ago as he made dinner, and watched Finn from afar, sapped from his heart and left him feeling dry and grumpy once again.

It felt really awkward. Jake started patting the pudge of his belly until he got bored of that and gazed up at Finn to once again dwell upon his appearance - his hair, stiff and gold like dehydrated wheat, fell around a vacant mug, concealing the white patch which concealed the mauled remains of his ear. "You want me to cut your hair?" asked Jake. He thought that was super lame small talk, but he just wanted to strike up a conversation with the brother who was missing for six months.

 _Assuming you're still in there, bro,_ he thought a second later, and then banished the notion in the one that followed.

Finn flicked him a sideways glance, one that was so quick Jake pondered whether he himself was just seeing things. "If it pleases you, Mister Jake."

Jake furrowed his brow. "I don't care, man. I'm asking: do  _you_ want it cut?" Finn started sweating bullets, his mouth working in and out as he struggled to comprise a response.  _Glob-Gobbit, this is going bad._ Jake fell over on his side, resting his head on Finn's lap and in turn sending his walking stick clattering to the ground. "Forget I asked, bro. Just... just relax, man."

"Re...lax?" As if he'd never heard the word - or forgotten it.

"Yes! Relax!" snapped Jake, throwing his rubbery hands in the air before folding them under his armpits. "Just, I dunno, be  _fun_  or something. For me, man." He closed his eyes shut.

Jake would have fallen asleep right there if there wasn't that sudden blast of sensation running down his spine.  _Woah! What the flip!?_ His eyes sprang open, and Jake was almost dumbfounded to find Finn, not only  _smiling,_ but also scratching the folds along the side of his neck. And it felt... _great!_ Yeah, it's kinda weird, considering Finn hasn't done this since he was, like, nine, but still!

Jake felt his little stub of a tail begin to take on a mind of its own and beat hard and rhythmically against the sofa cushion:  _thump-thump-thump._

"Aw man, Finn,  _dude_ , what's this all  _about_?" Jake asked, half his mind in Happy Town with the other still on Planet Ooo.

Finn's ugly broken smile widened upon hearing Jake's eager panting. "I'm just doing as you asked, Mister."

"Well, whatever man! Just keep doin' what you're doing!"  _Man, even Lady can't work this kinda magic! (although she doesn't have fingers but that's besides the point)._

"As you wish," said Finn as he worked his hand down to Jake's belly.  _Ooooohhhh Glob! Yeah, that's the stuff!_

Jake's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he felt like he was receiving the rub down of a lifetime. He managed to pull it in just long enough to ask, "Man, where'd you learn to  _do_  this kinda stuff?"

The boy was  _more_  than happy to answer. "I've been taught how to pleasure every manner of creature in Ooo," he explained. "Fire Elementals, the great Stone Snails, Grass Giants, Lemon Children, Hyoomans. Even dogs."

Jake's eyes sprung open; he suddenly felt really uncomfortable. And really  _wrong._

Unbearably so - a literal hot flash made him sweat beneath his coat. "I gotta go," he said quickly, standing just as fast. "Gotta check on the 'taters. The pot, I mean - it's soaking in the sink!"

"Did I displease you, Mister?" asked Finn.

Jake paced across the living room, running his fingers all over his body, trying to swat away the millions of imaginary spiders running along his skin.  _Oh Gob oh Gob oh GOB that was so wrong!_ Jake wasn't as dumb as PB and Marceline thought he was; he knew the full-extent of what Finn had done and what he went through during his captivity.

It made Jake madder than anything; mad enough to want to wage war on that "Master" and his entire kingdom.

But Finn... to actually  _see_ his brother, to  _feel_ him using those sick techniques on his own person!  _I hope to Grob Bubblegum is able to keep a lid on this whole thing!_ Jake thought with a strike of fear.

How would people react when they've seen what Finn has become?

* * *

**One Day Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands: Tree Fort**

**9:05 P.M.**

**Funn**

Going through the motions was the easiest thing in the world. They tell you to do something, you don't pause you just do it, regardless of how sore your bottom will be the next morning. They ask you a question, you say what they want to hear:

 _"Smells good?"_ he remembered Mister Jake asking not too long ago.

 _"Your cooking skills are unparalleled, Jake... um, Mister Jake,"_ he replied, as he was expected to. Funn didn't dwell upon the slip of the tongue - accidents happen, after all.

 _And it's a good thing too. Mister Jake actually has connections to Master!_ Funn hoped Jake wasn't too unhappy about his unsatisfactory performance.

He prayed to Glob that he wasn't.

He had an inkling that the dog who was once his brother had such connections; it wasn't really surprising, given his criminal background. It only reaffirmed what Master droned into Funn's brain during his reconditioning:  _"You have no friends, buddy,"_ he said, smiling his eerie smile in the darkness of the dungeon.  _"Finn had friends, but you don't. Otherwise, they would have saved you by now. But they didn't, guy. Because you have no friends. Funn has no friends. Finn did, but not you."_

Funn had gone through such similar scenarios many a time over the course of his service to Master.  _No Funn, you're still Master's Funn little toy. You just have no idea what you're doing here or why you still are._

Perhaps, like those unbelievably disrespectful thoughts he had while clinging on to the ladder, and his snap decision to actually let Master do something as crazy as to try and kill him (though Master would never dream of inflicting lasting damage on his most profitable toy, and would probably just take an entire foot to ensure that he never runs off again), there remained some shreds of the old boy beginning to resurface.

No, the smartest thing to do was just go through the motions, act like he was entertaining another customer until Master's Cretins inevitably show up to cart him away and then play dumb.  _That's something the old boy would do,_ he thought.  _But I've been bad and I will get beaten otherwise._ Though Master will undoubtedly beat him anyway for doing something as blasphemous as  _singing,_ and tasting his favorite meal without Master's permission.  _No, that wasn't your favorite meal. That's the other boy's favorite meal. Your favorite meal nowadays is live rat._

_This is wrong. This is all wrong, what am I doing? I'm stabbing Master in the back, betraying his kindness... I'm no better than the people who stole me._

_But Jake the Dog told me that Master wanted me to eat. What does that mean? Why would Master do all of this? What is he trying to gain? Oh, I shouldn't think such things! Master knows best, Master is kind. He may be just trying to catch a break? But that goes against my teachings, my reconditioning. I was never given any hand-me-downs in the dungeons of his palace. I had to catch my food, and bite into it while it was still wriggling. And now he's giving me a cooked meal, one that also used to be my favorite meal?_

_What am I? Am I Funn, the butchered piece of fun for Master's friends, or am I someone else entirely? Surely the latter; Funn doesn't get full-course meals, sings, laughs or has two robots for friends. And he's certainly not that old boy who wore the white bear hat. He can hold a sword and fears nothing except clowns and the dead guy. That boy is dead. But..._

_...what am I?_


	7. Getting There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnibel remains stubborn. Jake becomes more familiar with Finn than he ever wanted. Marceline poses a dangerous idea.

**Two Days Since Finn's Rescue**

**Candy Kingdom: Laboratory**

**1:20 P.M.**

**Bonnibel**

The sun was almost as high as it could be when Bonnibel sensed a rush of wind snap her coattails. She pushed away from her enormous psyche text, smiling tiredly underneath the invisible film clinging to her unwashed face. "Good, you're back," she said, all straight to business. "Give me the lowdown."

Self-possessed Marceline Abadeer was predictably lagging an immediate reply; she was never known for her readiness, and on any other day the princess would find it charming had the "lowdown" not been about Finn. " _Day-hang_ , Bonnie! Did you even  _move_ since I left?" Bonnibel banished any memory of when Finn would poke fun at her for spending entire afternoons in a single position when lost in her work.

"No offense," Marceline continued, "but you really look like crap." Aversion of the subject; it's so like her to do that, Bonnie mused. Luckily for them both, she'd grown accustomed to her lifelong friend's mannerisms that would otherwise be aggravating coming from anyone else.

The half-lidded stare told it all - as did her sunken expression, the mustard stains on her lab coat, and the complete disarray of her gooey hair, all tied up in a sloppy ponytail. Not that she gave a toot; no one but Marcy and Peps were seeing her anyway. "Just give me the status update on Finn." Her voice was tight and tinged with exhaustion, borne from both a lack of sleep and the weight this whole ordeal had put on her. "Is he readjusting?"

Marceline actually had to  _ponder_  a tic, and think  _real hard_  on what to say,  _even freaking humming-!_

"Sometime this century, Marceline!"

"WILL YOU GIVE ME A SEC!?" Bonnibel pulled her head back, eyes wide. To Marceline though, she may as well have jumped back with a yelp.

Her old friend went from furious to remorseful a beat later, and then the bags underneath her eyes suddenly came to focus. "I-I... sorry, I'm just a little..."

"Yeah," Bonnie muttered, gazing at the ground. "Me too. A-And sorry, I mean." Marcy grunted, nodding once. She floated over, approaching, her eyes on her hand, and her hand grazing the cluttered surface of Bonnibel's work space - taking care to avoid the soup, pizza, and a dish with syrup pooled in the center from this morning.

"So..." Marceline began, coming to a stop before her, in more ways than one.

This was the same rowdy rockstar who always had something to say; speechlessness did not sit well with Bonnibel, at all. Although she was careful to hide it behind her practiced, blank face.

She maintained this once Marceline finally spoke, thankfully, as she only uttered the oh-so-dreaded, "Where to start?"  _That's the last thing I wanted to hear!_ Bonnibel bemoaned.

What Marceline said next was the second to last thing she wanted to hear: "You go. I think I still need time to process just what the  _flip_ I saw last night."

 _Well, they're still alive at least._ Bonnibel's shoulders sagged a hefty sigh.  _So should I tell the truth or lie and pretend everything's okay? Oh, who am I fooling - she'll find out. She always does._

The princess began a deliberate stride across the lab."I... I'm stumped, Marcy." She brought two fingers to the bridge of her nose and rubbed it. "I really, really am. There's just no feasible way to broadcast word that Finn's having a return party without having half of Ooo flock to his doorstep. So I figured, 'Well, then I'll just bring him here - problem solved!' But then I realized I'll have to contend with everyone trying to swamp the dang  _kingdom_. So," she laughed breathily, "that's not gonna work! And no matter how I go about this, the princesses of Ooo will be the first to hear! And they'll do whatever they can to see Finn first, and they'll see him, and they'll freak out because he isn't the same and, and they're just so judgemental, Marceline! You don't know them like I do, these girls are  _shallow_  - and they'll only judge him and, and he'll just feel  _awful_! And I will too, because,  _because_...!"

A hand on her shoulder caused Bonnie to flinch, then settle immediately, just as Marceline began to coo, "Okay, alright. No party. Bad idea."

The lab was crypt-quiet as Bonnibel wiped her eyes, then inhaled deeply, and exhaled.

"So," she said, "the Fire Kingdom's buzzing like a bee hive, or so my sources claim." All those useless video cameras finally put to good use.

Hovering beside her, high above, she heard Marceline's concern as she remarked, "That ain't good."

Bubblegum walked out from her touch, pacing to the wall. " _Nah_ , it isn't. Peeps over there are be weavin' together some  _wild_  theories: Finn's dead, Finn's alive, Flame Princess  _lied_ ,  _I_ freaking lied! Or for some reason Jake lied, it's actually the Lich wearing Finn's skin, Finn was never gone... My brain is going koo-koo-bananas, I tell ya! But none of that matters - yet. We'll just count ourselves lucky no one in Ooo trusts the Fire Kingdom enough to build relations - and that the majority of its citizens are too complacent to wanna leave it."

"Um, if you say so Bonnie."

Finally reaching the other side of her lab, Bonnibel stopped, turned heel, and asked the vampire on the opposite side, " _Now_  can you tell me about what happened with Finn?"

Marceline gave her friend a hard stare. Bonnie's analytical eye sensed picked up on a very subtle hint of what could be mistrust or even disbelief in those sharp little rubies she had for eyes.  _What's that all about?_ She wondered fruitlessly, knowing she'd never get her answer, for whatever was running through Marceline's vaulted mind surfaced for only a second before returning to their usual mischief and playfulness.

She lazily floated over. "First off, can I just say the Fire Kingdom is full of idiots?" she joked.

Her remark actually brought humor to Bonnibel's weary face. "You wouldn't be the first."

Even Marceline got a kick out of that, falling back in midair in a fit of giggles. Bonnie forced a chuckle, just to keep it from getting awkward. Truth is she couldn't tell whether her friend's laughter was genuine or there was something awful eating her. No one, not even her oldest and dearest friend, could ever tell what was really going through the Vampire Queen's mind. Being alive for over a thousand years does have its benefits, as Bonnibel was well aware of - one of them being an acute ability to fake it.

And as she recovered quickly and her face turned serious on the flip of a dime, it became painfully clear that Marceline was trying to alleviate the tension - but she's tried for six months and it still hadn't worked, as her flushed cheeks indicated after seeing Bonnibel didn't find it nearly as funny.

Swallowing, Marceline proceeded to regale with the glummest of expressions, "Well, I did the thing you asked - no one in the Kingdom knows about Finn. Like I said before, your guards smashed that lemon litter with the butts of their spears; still are when I flew by this morning while the sun was coming up. It's practically sawdust by now!"

"And Finn?" Bonnibel succeeded in concealing the anxiousness of her tone, not that it mattered when considering her breakdown with Marceline the day prior.

"Finn made it home. He's not wearing his hat, like, at all." If one thought that Marceline cared for no one but herself, they would be proven wrong right there. "What's up with that, Bon?" she asked, evidently pained.

Bonnibel stroked her chin, pacing a couple steps. "Hmm, I suspected that would happen. Given the nature of his -  _eugh_ \- 'reconditioning', I wouldn't doubt that he feels like a completely different person, and sees the hat as something that this change of mind wants to reject."

"'Person' may be too kind a term." Marceline laid back on a bed of air, arms crossed and her sad face on full display. "He barely did  _anything_  last night. He's like a zombie or something."

"But," Bonnie interjected, "if we just keep him under cover, just for a bit, and expose him to things he knows and loves, we'll get our old friend back in no time." Her tone was so convincing, she actually fooled herself.

Yet Marceline gave Bubblegum another look: that same, mistrusting glitter that receded as quickly as it came, and rubbed its target in just as wrong a way, but she resumed without heed. "So dinner's when things got freaky. Jake made a joke about that disgusting 'Master' and Finn got all scared, and then after dinner things got even weirder when Jake was almost..." Marceline looked away, a flush creeping up her pale face.

Bonnibel did not need to hear anymore to understand. "Gob..." She sat down at her work table and cupped her forehead. "That's...intense. Oh,  _Glob_. Is Jake okay?"

"He's fine. Just a little freaked out." Marceline stuffed her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, still veering her gaze with hints of a blush on her cheeks, though that may have just been the light and insomnia playing tricks on Bonnibel's eyes - she was seeing colored spots everywhere. "After that whole fiasco Jake just played Beemo, a good cushion or two away from Finn, until the kid went lights out. Then Jake carried him up to his sleeping bag and went to bed himself. Then I did. I woke up at sunrise and they're sleeping like babies. Now I'm here. There's your lowdown on how well the little guy is slipping back into his old life. Like slipping on a glove, I'd say." The cold sarcasm in her tone was like a punch in the face.

"Marceline..." Bonnibel held out a hand and rested in on Marceline's tense shoulder. She felt it relax a bit to her touch.

"I know, I'm sorry." Marceline waved her friend away and put some space between them. "It's just that thing with Jake really weirded me out."

Bonnie nodded, understanding completely. To think that Finn would try something like that... and to his  _best friend._

_No, that isn't Finn. The real Finn wouldn't do something like that._

She shuddered at the thought all the same and forced it out of her mind. "So I'm still wracking my brain over how we're gonna present Finn to the rest of the world," she explained, quick to change the subject. "Over here is a compilation of different methods we may conduct that can definitely help Finn ease back into the swing of things." Bonnie walked to her work table, pushing away her untouched lunch of now-cold tomato soup and gathered in her hands a thin stack of papers. "You may not like this Marcy, but I fear that your plan is just too risky to pull off. Maybe, with a little time and a lot of luck, word of mouth around the Fire Kingdom will simply fade out like all rumors do. This could buy us some more time to help Finn-"

"Bon."

"What?" That look. She was giving that look  _again._ "What? Why are you staring at me? What's with the hate-stare?"

Suddenly Marceline was chuckling rather low and curtly. Floating on her back and slowly drifting to the window, she clapped her hands together with an unsettling sense of finality. "Forget it. It's nothing," she said. You'd have to be a moron to think she meant it. But Bonnie knew better than to pry with Marceline. "Look, I'm heading out. I'll catch you later."

And before Bonnibel could open her mouth to protest her friend had vanished from sight, likely invisible now and quietly making her way out the window and exiting the kingdom under the shadows of the buildings.  _Let her have her doubts,_ Bubblegum thought, fists tightening.  _Finn just needs time. That's all he needs, is time and readjustment. It'll be okay..._

With Marceline's inane plots well and out of her mind, Bonnie was already beginning to churn out ways to keep Finn hidden away without the rest of the world making a premature revelation. Bonnibel strode back to her chalkboard, gazing upon the white scribbles detailing the many ideas and their primarily unacceptable results - results that almost always ended with disaster - that she and her friend spit-balled the day prior. A disaster, an atrocity, every one of them.

 _Surrounding him with the peeps that care about him,_ she could almost hear Marceline nag, whispering in the back of her mind.

But that made no sense, she believed. It's a gamble at best, a disaster at worst.  _But I can't keep him hidden away forever. Only until he's better... normal again..._

"He needs time," Bonnibel told herself. "That's all it is.  _It has to be..._ " She suddenly regarded the doomed-plots and party ideas that Marceline suggested with a snarl and disgust. "I'm not risking everything on a gamble." She hooked her fingers underneath her lab table. "Not Finn. I'm not betting Finn on a  _Globbing_   _gamble!_ " Fueled by her own pride and at-times unruly ire, Bonnie flung the table over, sending books and beakers and paper stacks and her untouched lunch of tomato soup crashing and spilling to the ground. The sound will undoubtedly beckon Peppermint Butler. The princess slumped herself against the wall and sluggishly slid down to her butt, awaiting his inevitable coming.

When Peppermint Butler came before a minute's end, he gave a squeaky gasp at the mess his ruler, caretaker, mother and boss and dearest friend had made. "Oh, my! Princess!" The mint candy waddled his way across the dim-lit laboratory, stepping carefully over the spill of chemicals-and-soup-mixture so as to not get his nice polished loafers soiled.

"Peebles?" Peps knelt down beside his seated ruler and rested on her shoulder a glossy-red hand. He just took in the fact that the princess hasn't acknowledged his presence apart from her rather unsettling dead-eyed stare she'd fixed him with. Bonnie of course had no aim in disturbing the butler, rather it was a side effect she always had when debating on whether or not she should spill her guts out right there or keep it all gummed up inside. The light affection Peps squeezed her shoulder with decided the battle.

"Peps, can I ask you something... off the record?"

Peppermint Butler smirked, as if it weren't a serious question. "Of course, Prubs. Is it my cooking? I asked  _Chet_ not to leave the tomato soup covered, but he would hear none of it. Or..." His face took a darker turn, which could only mean one thing: "Or does this concern my... nocturnal activities?"

The idea that "off the record" to Peps referred to his cooking abilities (and his ignorance to the fact that his escapades in the darker arts were universally known) actually made a little smile tug at her lips and lighten her heart. Bonnie removed the glasses she used for her "far-farsightedness" when conducting labwork; it made Peps's face blurred and distorted, which for some reason made it easier for her to ask what she needed to ask:

"Peps..." she started, already showing a rare weakness that only ever came out in front of close friends, "...what are your honest thoughts about the situation with Finn? And please, don't say anything to try and please me, or that'll only make me mad. I want complete and total honesty."

Peppermint Butler gave his princess the longest and darkest of stares before forging a response - one that would undoubtedly make her upset if worded poorly, she knew for sure. "Princess," he finally said, sighing heavily, "if you wanted complete and total honesty, you should have gone to the Fire Kingdom."

 _That's his way of saying I need to just spill the beans to the rest of the world._ It took every good sense in Bonnie's mind not to act rash and sock him one in the eye. "I'm not asking what you think I should do, Peps," she worded slowly. "I'm asking how you  _feel._ "

"How I feel?" Peppermint Butler hesitated, and rightly so; very rarely had Bonnie ever outright asked him how he felt about a particular situation. Now being faced with such clearly took the mint candy aback as much as it did perplex him, but he knew the princess long enough to never question her drive. When beginning his rebuttal, Peps took his hand off her shoulder and began to fondle with both - as though washing his hands of the filth he were about to utter.

"Princess Bubblegum...," Bonnibel straightened instinctively - he almost  _never_  used her full title, "I know that this is a hard time for you. And I know that what I am about to say will be the last thing you want to hear. But if you truly desire my council, then heed my words: let it go."

He froze, awaiting what he expected to be an immediate countercharge but the princess only gave him a hollow stare.

She was  _listening_.

"Let it go," he reiterated. "I want Finn back as much as you do, believe me. But coddling him and treating him like one of your old dollies is just... I don't feel it's natural! If others knew, I think, they might feel the same and may even go as far as to try and  _stop_  you. Me? From what I've seen of him (which granted, is very little), Finn looks to me like he's too far-gone to help now. I'd just let nature take its course, let him find his own way out of the darkness. That's what you did eight-hundred years ago, or so you've told me."

Bubblegum had no interest in delving back to her early days wandering the post-Mushroom War Earth, reading torn science books by candlelight and hiding from starving animals in bombed-out buildings - all for the sake of her defenseless brother, Neddy.  _But I didn't have any friends to turn to,_ she wanted to say, though Bonnie wanted to end the conversation there. "Thank you, Peps." Her voice implied that she was everything but grateful for her servant's council, but he said nothing if he actually caught that. "I think I'll... clean myself up, clear my head a little. No one's to disturb me for the next six hours, got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Peppermint Butler did a mock salute and ran off to fetch the cleaning crew. The princess lingered in her lab a bit longer, mulling over her friend's words.

 _But are we doing it right?_ nagged that annoying moral compass of hers.  _Is there really no other way? Are we so desperate that we dress Finn up in his old clothes, feed him his favorite foods in hopes of a positive reaction?_

"No." Bubblegum pummeled her fist into her open palm. "Marceline may doubt me, Peps may think it's a lost cause, but my way is the best way. I know it is." She reached into one of the deep pockets of her lab coat, and tossed into the overflowing trash can a crumpled flyer for the Princess Potluck.  _  
_

_Not going to that I suppose,_ she thought with cold indifference.  _My Hero's saved me countless times, would go to the ends of Ooo at the drop of a hat if need be._

_Now, it's time that I save him._

* * *

**Two Days Since Finn's Rescue**

**Grass Lands: Tree Fort**

**10:45 A.M.**

**Jake**

Jake and Finn slept soundly until well past sunrise, an hour before lunchtime. Yawning, he thought to himself,  _Man, I love sleep! Got the renewed life-energies to help a brother out._

But when Jake first cracked his eyes open, he found his brother lying awake on top of his sleeping bag, still in his casual wear from yesterday. The sight disheartened him only for a second when he remembered that that's how he put him to bed the night prior.

Jack balled himself up in his little drawer-space, a enthusiastic smirk adorned. Somehow the boy knew he was being watched, and quickly sat up, almost too suddenly, and so readily that it managed to give Jake a start. "Heh, morning bro," he said, shrugging it off. "Sleep good?"

Finn pulled his legs in so he sat criss-cross. "I had... a comfortable sleep, Mister Jake." He shivered a little, despite the air in their bedroom being quite balmy. "Truly, I did," he assured, in case Jake didn't believe him.

Though Jake tried his hardest to forget, to just make a fist with his brain and punch out any negative thoughts, he just couldn't get what happened last night out of his head. It didn't stir his guts up as bad as right after, no; thinking about it while listlessly playing BMO, it's obvious that Finn just didn't know any better.

Yet, there was still that uncomfortable lurch he got when recalling how ready his brother was to do...  _whatever_ he was ready to do. Suddenly Jake found himself sorely missing Finn's once-boundless energy.  _Will I ever hear you laugh again, bro?_

Apparently Finn saw Jake's sudden falter in his beaming face, and asked, "Are you alright, Mister Jake?" The question sounded almost robotic coming out of the boy's mouth, like he was programmed to say that (and that wouldn't be too far from the reality actually).

"Yeah, I'm fine, man," he replied, waving it off. Quickly Jake's mind raced to think of something to forget that awkward night. But what he promptly considered as a change of subject would not ease that in the slightest: "Say man," he asked, "you feel like a bath?"

Behind his cage of golden bars, Finn's eyes narrowed. "A...bath?" The concept sounded completely foreign to him, and only then did his brother suddenly remember that Finn was only bathed while he was still unconscious.

Jake was quick to palm himself, both mentally and physically. "Aw geez..." he grumbled, rubbing down his forehead hard. He felt that he had to act quickly to stop this from getting any more awkward (if that was possible).

Jake let out a long, heavy sigh. "Look man," he forced himself to say, "you're a free dude now, and part of being a free dude means having to take care of yourself in the bathroom. You gotta clean yourself, do your business, brush your teeth..." At the mention of his yellowed ruin, Finn made it a discreet-but-obvious effort to run his tongue along said teeth - Jake felt heavier in the gut for bringing attention to it. "You understand what I am saying?"

He thought not: Finn held his tongue for a while, no doubt trying to decipher whether or not this was some kind of trick, all the while sucking on his own teeth. Jake, though it was very hard to do so, forced himself to be patient for his brother until at last Finn self-consciously buried his mouth into his knobbly pale knees and shook his head 'no'.

"You wanna be dirty?" Jake asked, straining to keep himself from sounding aggressive.

Finn began to tremble like a startled rabbit. "I want to please," he stiffly enunciated, like some shadowy assassin had a knife at his throat. "I'm Funn and nothing but. I'm not good enough to be clean."

 _Good enough?_ A fire rose up in Jake's belly, and he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to for what would come next. "Bull-gunk, Finn! Stop treating yourself like you're nothing but dirt!"

He didn't mean to frighten the boy. He really, truly didn't. But he wanted so bad for Finn to understand. Sadly, that day may not be coming any time soon, for Finn just started nodding like mad and saying, "Yes, Master! Yes, Master!" His hand moved to conceal the tears welling in his eyes.

"Finn, hush up!" Jake shot up to his feet, standing in his drawer. "You don't gotta Master, you hear me!?"

His baby brother clamped his hands over his mouth, mumbling, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, 'm sorry Mister Jake - please don't be mad at me, please..." with tears rolling down his cheeks all the while.

Jake was about to say more, but it came out as a sigh - a sigh which deflated him until he was laying back in bed, pinned with a terrible, immovable weight upon his chest.  _I feel like I'm twenty years older._ Then his thoughts turned a tad bitter.  _Where the heck is PB and Marcy!? Do they even care?! Why-! ...Why did they leave me to do this on my own?_

He thought about it, then remembered that most likely Peebles had her hands full with the Fire Kingdom, and who knows what Marceline was up to. Jake sighed upon realizing that he was all alone, at least for now, and he found himself wishing he was at Lady's with the kids and not a care in the world.

But that was just petty fantasy, and his bro was real and his bro needed him now more than ever.

Jake wordlessly stretched his legs across the room, bringing himself face to face with Finn as he wrapped his arms around the boy's figure like he'd lasso a criminal. Finn did nothing to resist as Jake carried him over his head, into the bathroom, and set him on the edge of the tub. While the bath was filling with hot water, Jake had the displeasure of removing Finn's clothes. He pulled his shorts down him legs, shirt, underwear, all while keeping his eyes on the boy's face to futilely keep it from getting any more awkward. Finn at least had the grace not to point out the flush creeping its way across his brother's face.

 _Never thought I'd be helping my bro take a bath,_ Jake thought, trying to make light of a truly heartbreaking situation. He'd say it out loud if it were a good idea - Finn would laugh at that, once upon a time.

Jake had to help Finn ease into the tub. A low hiss whistled through the boy's teeth as his scarred torso became submerged.  _Grob, there's so many scars._ Jake had no choice but to look at them as he scrubbed his chest, belly, and all the marks they've collected with a soaped washcloth.

The whole time there was this silent tension between the two, and even though Jake made sure the water was nice and warm Finn could not stop shaking. He simply sat there in the tub with his knees tucked under his chin and trembling something awful like they were in the Ice Kingdom. When Jake asked if everything was alright, Finn was quick to reply, "Yes, Mister. Very much, Mister."

As Jake lathered his hair, he told him, "Sorry I snapped at you, bro. I'm just a little stressed out, is all." Only a half-truth, though Finn didn't seem to realize. A stiff little nod was all he could get from him. Jake ran his pruning fingers through the boy's pale-gold locks. They began smelling of tangerines.

Minutes later, Finn finally spoke by his own will when he said, "Mister Jake?"

Jake was hesitant to reply, making sure he actually heard his brother speaking without being spoken to and it wasn't his senility playing tricks on him. "Yeah?" he said dumbly.

Finn licked his gross blistered lips. "I would like to apologize for... what happened the previous night, in your home."

A little smile tugged at Jake's lips, mostly from just hearing Finn speak. "Don't worry about it, man. I'd sooner forget about that whole mess."

"No, no, I was unacceptable." He shook his head. Fear played his every word like a harp. "I acted... without your full consent. I was... hasty... t-to please, I mean, lacking common sense or judgement. I'm... ashamed. But I deserve any punishment you will inflict upon my person...  _if you choose to do so._ "

Jake suddenly felt elated at his conclusion, for Finn's only been back home for three days now and already he was showing signs of his old self.  _It's not much,_ thought Jake with a giant mental grin,  _but I know my broski when I hear him, and that little 'if you choose to do so' number is definitely a giant leap forward. Fight the instincts, brotha! FIGHT 'EM!_ Jake didn't need to be reminded how many times Finn would say he "deserved" to be beaten for the pettiest of reasons, but never before has he presented it as an  _option_.

That meant he was starting to think a bit more openly, and thinking openly meant he was making a gradual return to normalcy.

"I think it may be this change of environment," he said, sounding as if Jake actually cared about his reasoning and needed more convincing. "This place is... not what I am accustomed to, and I pray you forgive me if it takes time to adjust." He quickly added, "But I swear my services will be superior than anything your closest lover will provide, tenfold." With that, he went back to muttering into his knees,  _"I am Funn, and nothing but. That is all I am and all I ever will be."_

Jake reached in to drain the tub.  _One step at a time,_ he told himself, choosing to ignore the boy's mutterings.

Even cleaned and bathed Finn looked about ten years older, with his white, hollowed face and thin hair and those chips of ice sitting in his eye sockets. Jake still made the effort to keep his eyes "up there" when toweling the boy dry. He left Finn sitting on the tub's edge to fetch him a clean pair of clothes. He was still there upon returning.

But when Finn made eye contact, Jake got a shiver and quite a start when he suddenly reached out for the sink with his one hand and, after a bit of an effort, pull himself up. He stood there leaning against the sink, completely immodest of his stark flesh as he gestured to his gaping brother and said, "I can dress myself, Mister Jake."

Jake couldn't help but smile proudly at Finn as he set the clothes down. His brother took a gander at them and looked back at Jake, mirroring an ugly little smile in return.

Jake was making everybody lunch (tuna fish sandwiches, just tuna fish for Finn) when said boy was heard making the slow hobble all by himself down the stairs. "Sorry for keeping you, Mister Jake," he said upon reaching the bottom.

"Don't sweat it bro. Take a seat, we're about to have lunch."

Just in his shorts and t-shirt, Finn waddled across the room on his walking stick and reclaimed his seat on the couch. From there, much of what happened the day before occurred again that afternoon: Jake cleaned and played Card Wars with BMO, Neptr and Shelby while Finn watched with humorless eyes. There wasn't any change in his demeanor at all throughout the day, but Jake for the life of him could not shake the feeling that there was something looking back at him when he spared a glance at his brother. Not in a literal sense (of course there was actually someone looking at him when he did), but he felt a change in Finn's attitude that made him just feel a bit warmer to smile at, icy eyes regardless.

Even if he's just grasping for straws, Jake could at least take definitive comfort in how Finn could take care of himself in the bathroom.

It was late into the evening when Jake found himself once again the only person awake and playing BMO. Finn was sprawled out at the end of the couch, peacefully asleep, his breathing even and four fingered hand twitching.  _Wonder what he's dreaming about,_ thought Jake. He sunk back into the couch, controller in hand, and smiled. "It'll be okay," he murmured to himself. "Everything will be okay."

Suddenly he sensed the stillness of the Tree Fort behind him falter, the air all around him stir. He knew who it was before she even opened her mouth. "Guess who?" she sang.

"Marceline." Jake knew just how to push her buttons without even trying.

Carrying the scent of a cold grave wherever she went, the vampire floated down between him and BMO, lying on her stomach atop a bed of air with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Aw, you're no fun." Marceline pouted like a child. She looked to Finn and smiled a bit when he turned over on his side, with the arm stump. "How's he holding up?" she asked in a whisper.

"I think he's starting to come around," said Jake, measuring his tone with hers. "He still thinks he's lower than dirt, and if you ask him something he turns into kind of a wreck, but he's starting to talk on his own, and do little things like dress and go to the bathroom without asking permission." Jake's tone was cocksure. Marceline smirked and nodded as he continued, "It's hard to explain, but I just  _know_ my old bro is there sometimes when he's talking. Maybe I'm crazy. I dunno. It's like a link only two bros can share."

Marceline repositioned herself so that she was kneeling in midair with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her grey hoodie. "Cool. That's cool. Say, have you been letting Finn do his own thing, or made him follow this precise little bullet list of things he used to do?" An odd question. An abrupt question. Jake thought she was joking, but the placid look on her face told him that she probably wasn't. And suddenly he got the notion that this had to do with PB.  _Best stay out of that can of worms._

Still, Jake saw no reason to lie. "I've been kinda letting him do his own thing. Most days he sits on the couch, scoping out the scene." Jake let that hang for a minute, and quickly added when he saw Marceline's brows slant, "I'd like to think that Finn is learning something from watching me and the guys horse around and  _not_ just sitting around like a lump waiting for an 'order' or whatever, but... I dunno. I'm kinda taking it slow."

"Oh." He'd have to be deaf to hear the disappointment in Marcy's tone. "No," she said quickly, "no, that's fine. That's good, even! It's just... stupid Bonnie thinks Finn should stay locked up in here, act like everything's okay. But you're just letting him do whatever, which, frankly Jake, won't get him anywhere... Bleh. This whole thing is nuts." Sighing, Marceline cupped her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes. They were red, redder than usual. As she started fumbling around for something in her pockets, she said, "Look, I'm not here just to check up Finn. There's something I wanted to try."

Jake's stare dropped to her hand drawing a little sack from her sweater pocket. "And what would that be, Mrs. Abadeer?"

Jake actually got chills from the devilish smirk that played across Marceline's lips right there. He has known the Vampire Queen long enough to know that this meant nothing good. "This," she said, opening the sack.

A look inside, and Jake saw a familiar gold powder. "Is that...?"

She nodded. "Yep. Sleep Powder." The hair's on the back of his neck stood on ends when Marceline told him, "We're going inside Finn's memories."


End file.
